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MAJ. GEN. JOSEPH WARREN. 

IfTw iftts slain in tAs £aMle m £uii/tsrlfiff. 

For God's inalienable rig"lits to man. 

Om- fathers foug-lit and. tied! 
So glorious w^ere tliose rights, secured. 

Tlie sons revere tlie dead. 



£nUJ-ffi ilODrdin^l Tff AU of feiori 



OUR COUNTRY: 



-OR, — 



Clje ^itricaB lark lecpsak. 



EDixro , Br 



WM. h! RYDER. 



BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED BY J. M. USHER, 

37 CORNHILL. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the j^ear 185i, by 

JAMES M. USHER, 

In the Clerk-s Otfice of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



\1'^ 






PRINTED BY 

BAZIN & CHANDLZR, 

37 CORNHILL. ■ 



36-31 D oo. 



OUR COUNTRY. 



Our country first, our glory and our pride. 
Land of our hopes — land where our fathers died 
When in the right, we'll keep thy honor bright ; 
When in the wrong, we'll die to set it r'ght. 



CONTEKTS. 



PAGE, 

My NATI^^ Land, 13 

American and Foreign Homes, 27' 

Naturalization of Aliens, 34 

The AMERiaiN Movement, o2 

The Bursting of the Chain, (an Anthem,) 62 

Landing of the Pilgrims, 64 

Priestcr.\ft, 70 

The American Idea, 92 

The Heretic Wife, 104 

Relation of American Women to Patriotism. .126 

The Grate of Washington, 134 

A Ride to Fort Hamilton, 143 

Genk\logy of American Liberty, 154 

Protestantism in America, 162 

A National Anthem, 179 



x. contents. 

The True Heart, 102 

The American Idea, 207 

The Duties of American Women, 218 

Lines on the Death of Miss Jane M'Crea, 222 

The Spirit of Freedom, 229 

The Pilgrim Fathers, 234 

Washington's Farewell Address, 236 



LIST OF PLATES. 



Bunker Hill Mo>fUMENT, (Frontispiece,) 

^ Landing of the Pilgrims, 64 

y Washington, 133 

J HArpY AS A Queen, 182 



PAGE 



PREFACE. 



We have no apology to offer for presenting the 
following pages to the pubHc. If they do not prove 
their own claim to the approbation of the people, 
nothing which it is proper for us to insert here will 
render them any more acceptable. That there was 
a demand for such a book, was certainly the opinion 
of those interested in its publication, or they would 
not have undertaken the task, and subjected them- 
selves to the heavy expense of issuing it ; but whether 
those, upon whose favor the- success of the effort 
largely depends, are of the same opinion, remains to 
be seen. 

We have endeavored to produce a neat and invit- 
ing Gift Book, — one that shall be suited to the wants 
of that large class of our commmiity who are inter- 
ested in the great American movement. In this eflfort 



Vi. PKEFACE. 

we have been generously aided; and we are certain 
that our success cannot have been wholly incomplete 
in view of the worthy names which adorn these pages. 

The subjects discussed, mostly relate to the same 
great theme. It is hoped, however, that there will 
not be found a lack of suitable variety : nevertheless, 
the best way for the reader to determine this, and 
several other thmgs, is to buy the book and read it for 
himself. 

While the editor gave to each contributor full per- 
mission to express his own views, he has been pleased 
to observe in then- several communications, an entire 
absence of everytliing like national and sectional ani- 
mosity. This, in itself, is regarded as strong proof 
that the feelings wliich have been not unfrequently 
attributed to the friends of the American party, do 
not exist in fact. It is, however, constantly affirmed, 
that this whole movement rests upon hatred of for- 
eigners — is little less than a crusade against those 
who have sought a home in this country — and, as 
such, is illiberal and unchristian. If this were true 
in the estimation of the editor, these pages had never 
been issued under his supervision. But the charge 
is unquestionably false. The movement does not rest 



PREFACE. ' VU. 

upon a hatred of foreigners; neither does it in any 
way seek their injury. That there are persons iden- 
tified with this new party who have very narrow 
views, and are influenced by selfish considerations, is 
altogether Hkely ; but that the great body of the peo- 
ple occupy this j^osition, is not true. They honestly 
beheve that the interests of their country are jeopard- 
ized by the presence of so potent a foreign influence 
among us, and they think it necessary that some action 
should be taken, by which aliens are required to 
become more fully identified with our mstitutions, 
before they are allowed the elective franchise. Not 
that they sui3pose the mass of these people have come 
among us with the intention of overthrowing our gov- 
ernment, or of doing harm to it in any way; but 
then' education and former alliances have been unfa- 
vorable to hearty sympathy with Republicanism, and 
it cannot be expected that^under such circumstances 
they will always act wisely because they do not act 
wickedly. Besides, this foreign influence has already 
had too much to do in deciding the elections in our 
country. The people feel that actual danger threatens 
from this source. Inspired by the memory of their 
fathers, and jealous of jmrty trammels, they have 



VUl. PRKFACE. 

undertaken to correct the abuse while they have the 
power. 

He mistakes entirely the position of this movement, 
who supposes it to interfere "vvith any man's religion. 
It simply claims the right of American-born citizens 
to rule America — to make laws for the security of 
the government against all organisms, whether politi- 
cal or religious, which are thought to be prejudicial to 
the jjublic good. 

We do^then most emphatically disclaim all^ hostility 
to foreigners, as such. Many of them are among our 
most intelligent and respectable citizens, and both 
deserve and receive our esteem. It is not that " we 
love Coesar less, but Rome more." 

With the expression of these views we have done, 
and our task is submitted to the public. 



OUR COUNTRY. 



MY NATIVE LAND. 



Br RET. T. WHITTEMORS. 



The love of country seems almost to be an instinct 
of man. It talvcs rank among the higher feelings of 
our nature. The pious Jew loved Jerusalem, the city 
of God. It was in th6 land of his birth, — the seat of 
the di\ine presence. Every thing beautiful and holy in 
his sight clustered around the name Jerusalem. While 
in Babylon, the Jews wept at the remembrance of Zion. 
They hung their harps upon the willows, and could not 
be happy in a strange land. When strangers taunted 
them and said, " Sing us one of the songs of Zion," 
[such as they used to sing in their native land], they 
replied, "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a 
strange land ?" as if the tiling were almost impossible. 
And then broke forth one of the most remarkable 
gushes of patriotism ever heard, to wliich history 
2 



14 MY NATIVE LAND. 

furnishes but few parallel cases. " If I forget thee, O 
Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning ; if I 
do not remember tJiee, let my tongue cleave to the roof 
of my mouth ; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief 
joy." While the holy writers require us to lcv3 the 
people of all lands as our brethren of the human race, 
they never condemn patriotism, — the pecuHar love of 
our native land. There is a touching recognition of 
the love of country, in the folio Wig passage : " "Weep 
ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him ; but weep 
sore for him that goeth away, for he shall return no 
more, nor see Jiis native country" Jer. xxii. 10 ; a judg- 
ment, in the sight of the Jew, worse than death. 
When Daniel, in Babylon, was in the midst of dangers, 
and Hable to fall a victim to the conspiracy of his ene- 
mies, " He went into his house, and his windows being 
open in his chamber towards Jerusalem, he kneeled 
upon his knees three times a day, and prayed and gave 
thanks, before liis God as he did aforetime." His love 
of country and of religion w^ere mingled together. 

It may be said, in opposition to the ground we have 
taken, that our Puritan forefathers forsook their native 
land, and came to these desolate shores, in the midst of 
wintry storms. 

"The breaking waves dashed high 
On a stern and rock bound coast, 
The woods against the stormy sky 
Their giant branches tost." 

If the love of country is a passion so sacred, why do 
we praise our forefathers, who left their native land. 



MY >"ATIVE LAND. 15 

their altars, and firesides, to cros3 the mighty ocean, 
and came to this inhospitable and unknown world ? 
To this question the true answer is, that another prin- 
ciple comes in here, wliich is paramount to a love of 
country ; we mean the duty a man owes to himself, to 
resist oppression, and to his God, to maintam a pure 
worship. 

There were men with hoary hair 

Amid that pilgrim band ; 

Why had they come to wither there 

Away from their childhood's land ? 

What sought they thus afar? 
Bright jewels of the mine? 
The wealth of seas ? the spoils of-.war ? 
They sought a faith's pure shrine! 

Such were the circumstances under which the pil- 
grims came to Plymouth in 1620. Their love of reli- 
gious Hberty, and their conscientious regard for the 
honor of God were so great, that they tore themselves 
away from home, they left the scenes of their child- 
hood, bade farewell to parents, brothers and sisters, — 
braved the perils of the ocean, and encountered all \he 
risk of landing, in the depth of winter, upon an inhos- 
pitable shore, where death, either by sickness, starva- 
tion, or the tomahawk, av/aited them. It was not be- 
cause they did not love their country that they came 
here, it was because they loved more deeply the rights 
of conscience and the honor of God. It was not be- 
cause they hated their King, for they hoped still to 
remain his subjects ; but it was because they believed 



16 MY NATIVE LAND. 

he was deceived by bad counsellors, and did not act 
from the impulses of his own heart. They threw many 
a glance of ardent love across the wide sheet of waters, 
that intervened between them and their native land. 
They loved old England still, with all its faults. There 
were the scenes of youth, — there were the graves of 
their fathers, — there were the fonts at which they were 
baptized, — there were the churches in which they had 
worshipped God, — there many a brother, many a 
sister, many a dear friend lingered still : they could not 
cease to love old England. 

The free, fair homes of England I 
Long, long in hut and hall, 
May hearts of native proof be reared 
To guard each hallow'd wall. 
And green forever be the graves, > 

And bright the flowery sod. 
Where first the child's glad spirit loves, 
^ Its country and its God. 

In the new land, the pilgrims sought to establish 
first of all a shrine of holy faith. They knelt down 
upon the icy shore to pray. The first hymn of grati- 
tude they simg, mingled with the roar of the ocean, 
and of the wind that rushed through the naked forests. 
They builded them houses for shelter, and forts for pro- 
tection ; they planted in the ensuing summer fields of 
corn ; they raised churches, and school-houses ; and in 
due time this wilderness became a fruitful field. The 
pioneers in the work of civilization grew old and died. 



MY NATIVE LAND. 17 

and the children born in the new land came up to tahe 
their places. They bore the bodies of their deceased 
fathers to the hill sides and the dells, and buried them, 
martyrs in the cause of God and truth. The young 
men, though not born in England, looked at it as their 
father-land. They were ready to espouse the cause of 
the king, and fight his battles ; and many of them in 
the old French war poured out their blood m his ser- 
\^ce. They fought the imited bands of French and 
Indians, and conquered them. They drove the king's 
enemies from the colonies, from the provinces on the 
East, and from the Canadas ; and they built up here, in 
their native land, a great and noble country. It was 
their country. The most of them had never seen any 
other. They loved the mountains and hills, the mead- 
ows and vales of New England. Her school-houses, 
her churches, they loved. They lived here a vast 
family, the descendants of English sires, and desired to 
enjoy the Hberty which their fathers had purchased by 
their sufferings and their sacrifices. 

But in an evil day, bad counsels prevailed in the 
Parliament of the mother country. The British minis- 
try asserted the right to tax the Colonies by act of 
Parliament, a body in which the Colonists had no 
representatives whatever. They remonstrated in terms 
of dignity and of respect to the Government of Eng- 
land ; they petitioned for the repeal of odious laws, but 
their petitions were treated with disdain. Bad coun- 
sellors were in the ascendency in England. The Colo- 



18 MY NATI\^ LAND. 

iiists asserted that they had no desire to separate them- 
selves from the mother comitry, but if driven to do it 
by the force of unjust laws, the blame m.ust rest on the 
Government. The Parliament persisted, and the Col- 
onists would not give back. And now came up the 
fearful prospect of a war betAveen Englishmen at home, 
and the descendants of Englishmen in the Colonies. It 
become a fearful strife. Brothers were arrayed against 
brothers, sons against their fathers. Compared with 
the power of the king, with liis treasury, his army, his 
nav)", — that had hitherto awed the world, — the Colo- 
nists were feeble indeed. But they beheved their 
cause ^as a righteous one, and, being men of piety, 
they trusted in God. K lie were on their side, one 
should chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to 
flight. A just cause is unconquerable. It may be 
crushed for a time, but it shall rise again. In this 
belief, the feeble Colonists dared to meet the forces of 
the British king ; and "v^dth what a spirit of daring they 
did it, let the history of Bunker Hill disclose. Men of 
peace and quietness though they were, yet they proved 
they could fight in the cause of justice. They lifted up 
their banner and appealed to God. The old men with 
hoary hairs, — the middle aged, in the strength and 
sternness of manhood, — the young with sunny locks 
and sprightly step, — all left the attachments and deli- 
cacies of home, seized their muskets and took the field. 
Guided, as if by more than human wisdom, the Con- 
gress of the several Colonies appointed George "Wash- 



MY NATIVE LAND. 19 

ington the commander of all the forces. In him were 
combined those rare quahties of courage, prudence, 
judgment, integrity, dignity, discretion and enterprise, 
that fitted him pre-eminently for the station, which to 
his liigh honor be it said, he did not seek, nor decline. 
What man born among us can read the history of the 
American Revolution without an honest pride ? The 
siege of Boston, — the battles of Trenton, Princeton, 
and Stillwater, — the capitulation at Saratoga, — the 
battles of Brandy\^ine and Germantowii, not successful, 
but honorable, — the battle of Monmouth, — the 
storming of Stony Point, — the daring deeds of Green, 
the quaker-general, at the South, — and last, but not 
least, the surrender of CornwalKs at Yorktown. These 
render the pages of American liistory radiant with 
glory. 

Ever since the peace of 1783, our native land has 
been free from foreign oppression. Look out on that 
glorious land ! See it extending now from the neigh- 
borhood of the St. LawTcnce to the Mexican Gulf, and 
from ocean to ocean, its western point being farther 
from its eastern, than that eastern point itself is from 
England. Behold its immense lakes, like so many 
Mediterranean seas, with their straits, their archipela- 
gos, and happy cities and towns upon their borders. 
Behold its magnificent rivers ! Behold the father of 
waters, sustained by a thousand tributaries ! See its 
immense prairies, its boundless fields, capable of fur- 
nishing food for the world. See its magmficent towns 



20 MY NATIVE LAND. 

and cities ! its peaceful villages ; its numerous churches ; 
its colleges ; its numberless common schools, — one of 
the chief glories of the land. Behold a family of inde- 
pendent States, hving under one common bond of 
union. See the working of our happy form of govern- 
ment, — a people ruKng themselves ; the public offices, 
from the highest to the lowest, accessible to every citi- 
zen. See the rulers, selected from the people, return- 
ing to the positions of common citizens again, honored, 
if they have been virtuous and faitliful, with the bene- 
dictions of their countrymen. See science spreading 
among us ! See the arts fostered, sldll developed, 
industry rewarded, and all the people enjoying as large 
a share of happiness as falls to the lot of any class of 
men. Such is pre-eminently the condition of New 
England ; and if there is any thing in any part of the 
land which we have true reason to regret, let us be 
cheered with the belief that the just cause at last must 
triumph ; that anything which is imnatural, and which 
is opposed to the laws of God, and the prayers of good 
men, cannot stand forever. The citizen of this country, 
wherever he goes, looks back to his home mth pride. 
He glories in our history, in the noble extent and 
variety of our territory, in our rapid growth, in our 
institutions, as a whole, and in the healthful, beautiful 
working of our young Government. Such is the scene 
presented by the United States of America. 

Our Institutions are all Hberal. Our political fathers 
intended them to be perpetual. Their fervent prayer 



MY NATIVE L.^D. 21 

was, that our freedom in State aiid in religion might 
remain midisturbed, 

" While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls a wave." 

To thi^ happy land the oppressed of all nations, who 
love our institutions can come, if they come in the spirit 
of friendship, to approve and to enjoy the form of 
government, and the political institutions under which 
we live. If they do not desire to enjoy these institu- 
tions, why do they approach our shores ? Here reli- 
gion is free. Here every man is permitted to worship 
God according to the dictates of his own conscience. 
Here the right of private judgment is acloiowledged. 
Here every man can have the Bible in his possession, 
with the right to read and understand it, without the 
intervention of any priest, or ecclesiastical authority. 
This is one of the dearest of our privileges. It brought 
ohr fathers to these shores at first. They fled from 
ecclesiastical oppression. They came here that they 
might establish a pure worship. Although they did not 
understand this principle in its fullest application, their 
sons, for a hundred and fifty years, improved upon the 
model of their fathers ; and one of the great principles 
of the government of our country now is, that every 
man shall have the right of private judgment in mat- 
ters of reHgion ; that the people have the right to 
govern themselves; that they are free from all foreign 
authority whatsoever, both in matters of Church and 
State. What enlisted the American Clergy, so earn- 



22 MY NATIVE LAND. 

estly, In the success of the American Revolution, — 
■what led them to bestow upon it their prayers and 
benedictions, except the belief that the country would, 
if successful, get rid of all foreign dictation, both in 
political and ecclesiastical matters ? We see, then, that 
our political institutions are founded on the right of the 
peojjle to govern themselves, both in matters political 
and ecclesiastical, in one as much as the other, and one 
is as sacred as the other. 

No one disputes, that the oppressed of foreign lands 
who love our institutions, have the right to come here 
and enjoy them. But if they are 02:>posed to any part 
tliereof, they have no business here. They have no 
right to come here with an oHve branch in one hand 
and a sword in the other. They know before they 
come, or ought to know, that if they mean to be citi- 
zens of the United States, they must renounce all al- 
legiance to all foreign authorities, — kings, princes, 
dulves, priests, potentates, and every foreign power 
whatever. ^If they come here to make war, either 
openly, or insidiously, upon the right of the people of 
this country to govern themselves, they are enemies 
whatever they may profess, and ought to be treated as 
guch. ' If they come here to oppose, either openly or 
secretly, the right of every man to worship God accord- 
ing to his own conscience, — the right of every man to 
read the Bible, and to judge of its contents by the Hght 
which God hath given him, they are opposed to the 
fundamental principles of our form of governm.ent, and 



MY NATIVE LAND. 23. 

ought not to be here. This government was not built 
up to be undermined and thrown down. Our fathers 
did not believe that they were pom-ing out their blood 
in vain. They had a holy hope that the superstructure 
which they raised, should stand, wliile the ruins of 
feudal castles, the prisons built to gratify the revenge- 
of kings, — and that worst of all forms of oppression 
and imprisonment, the Inquisition, — built to gratify 
the hellish spite of the Pope and his obsequous 
minions, should crumble to dust. 

The dangers of this country are not perhaps pro- 
perly apprehended. The Ilevolutionary fathers sup- 
posed their sons would be in danger of invasion by 
foreign armies; and they left on record these memora- 
ble words : " In vain we toiled, in vain we fought, we 
bled in vain, if you our sons want valor to repel the / 
assaults of the invader." It is not valor the American ; 
people want, but discretion. Our danger will not arise 
from foreign military invasion ; it Hes in the fact, that 
thousands and tens of thousands of foreigners are land-^ 
ing upon our shores, who are bringing principles with 
them hostile to the genius of oiu: institutions. We 
acknowledge then* full right to come if they love our 
institutions, and desire to Hve under them, and enjoy 
them ; but if they come to undermine them insidiously,, 
they are our enemies, and they have no business here. 
They are more dangerous than foreign armies ; for 
foreign armies we would meet upon the shore, and either 
secure them as prisoners, that they might do no harm, . 



I 



24 MY NATIVE LAND. 

or drive them back into the deep. But these more 
dangerous enemies insinuate themselves among us, with 
professions of respect for our laws, ap.d after they are 
established they aim to subvert our religious Hberty and 
our common schools. They now begin openly to avow 
their hostiHty. They have taken the ground that this 
country exists by the will of the Roman PontiiF, the 
sole repository they say of God's power upon the earth ; 
and if it does not exist by the will of God, it is a 
government usurped by man, and no one is bound to 
obey. These are the doctrines which have been 
broached among us, by the leading papists who have 
come here. They aim a blow at the right of private 
judgment in religion, by maintaining that no man has 
such a right ; and that the Pope, or the Chm-ch, is the 
only interpreter of the word of God. Such sentiments 
are hostile to the spirit of our government ; and if they 
ever prevail among us, there will be an end to what we 
have been accustomed to prize so dearly, " freedom to 
worship God," according to the dictates of our con- 
sciences. 

There is still another danger in the spirit with which 
ijaany foreigners regard our public schools. They will 
discoxmtenance the schools unless under teachers of 
their own religious faith. The Catholic clergy, it is 
well known, have distinctly taken the ground, that the 
present system on wliich the common schools of the 
country are carried on, ought to be abolished. They 
aBsert that the teachers of the Schools should be Catho- 



MY NATIVE LAND. 25 

lies, and many of them will send their cliildren to none 
other. Hitherto, in this land, the people have said 
that sectarianism should not enter the schools ; that they 
should be kept entirely free from all sectarian influence 
whatsoever. The designs of Catholics, therefore, in 
regard to the Schools is seen to be decidedly hostile to 
the spirit of our institutions. While Catholics main- 
tain that they should have the control of schools, or 
else the children of Cathohcs should not attend them, 
they insult Protestants by inviting them to send their 
cliildren to Catholic schools, to schools at Nunneries, 
and other seats of Catholic influence, thus intimating 
that the religion of a Protestant is not so dear to its 
professor as that of the CathoHc is to him. 

We have thus shown there is a lurking danger to 
our civil and religious institutions growing up amongst 
usi This danger is winked at by those imprincipled 
politicians, who are seeking to ride into power by the 
help of the votes of the foreign-born. 

If the danger truly exists, let us do all we can to 
resist it. i^Let us cultivate the spirit of patriotism. 
Let us say, " If I forget thee, O my country, let my 
right hand forget its cunning ; if I do not remember 
tliee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.*' 
Let us cultivate the spirit of the immortal Washington 
and his compeers. Let us remember Warren, and the 
brave men who laid down their lives for their country's 
honor and freedom. Let us hallow the battle-fields of 
the Revolution. Behold the noble shaft that rises from 



26 MY NATIVE LAND. 

Bunker-Hill. Although it stands in solemn silence, 
without an inscription of any kind, yet in reason's ear it 
utters a glorious voice. It speaks of the daring spirit 
of 1775; it stands upon the spot where one of the 
earliest struggles for liberty transpired ; and it warns 
us to beware of those who would break down our 
institutions, and deprive us of oiu* liberties. Let us 
appeal to God again, as our fathers did of yore ; and 
while we open our arms and hearts to give a cordial 
welcome to the poor and oppressed from every section 
of the globe, who love our institutions, and desire to 
live imder them, let us be on our guard against ene- 
mies who come in disguise, clothed in the fleece of 
Christian profession, but who are ravenous wolves 
witliin. Let us look with caution, but still with com- 
passion, on the faults of the poor, deceived, priest-ridden 
tliousands who come among us ; but mark, as the most 
dangerous men of all, their wiley, Jesuitical leaders, 
who are aiming at their own aggrandizement, and the 
overthrow of what Americans hold most dear. 



AMERICAN AND FOREIGN HOMES. 



By REV. T. B. THAYER. 



Thfre are no homes in Austria, Italy or France 
worthy of the name ; none certainly that are free from 
the insolence and oppression of despotism. They af- 
ford no refuge, no security, for innocence or weakness. 
No constitution, no law, no ci%il rights gird them about, 
or stand between their inmates and an irresponsible 
power, acting through an ever present police and mil- 
itary. 

Everywhere the individual is watched — the govern- 
ment never lose sight of him for a moment, going in 
or coming out, sleeping or waking, at work or in his 
amusements, or in his rest or idleness. In every vil- 
lage and hamlet you find the soldier, or the agent of 
the police office, in uniform or disguised. He glides in 
among the crowd, finds his way into the tavern, the 
workshop, the drinking house and even the dwelKng, 
under some pretence or other. He insinuates himself 
into the confidence of the inmates, he encourages free- 
dom and intimacy, and leads the way to open expres- 



28 AMERICAN AND FOREIGN HOMES. 

sion of political opinions, only that he may betray the 
trusting victim to his oppressors. 

Sometimes neighbors, and even depraved and aban- 
doned members of the family circle, are bribed and 
bought by the government to act as spies on the rest ; 
and so father and son, and brother and brother, mu- 
tually betray each other in secret, till all social confi- 
dence, and the holy faith of family affection are de- 
stroyed, and home lost. A word carelessly spoken ; a 
book, a newspaper, or handbill, with an expression having 
the shadow of a thought of freedom in it; unfavorable 
comment on any measure of the government; com- 
plaint against any of its cruelties or abominations, 
though whispered in the privacy of the 'bed-chamber ; 
the possession of any thing approaching weapons of 
war — these are enough to tear the door from its hinges, 
and the roof from its fastenings ; enough to blast the 
happiness of a family, and drag the offender from the 
joys of Home to the terrors of a prison, and perhaps of 
the scaffold. 

Soon after we left Lombardy, a respectable and peace- 
able victim was torn from his home and family, tried by 
a court martial, and sentenced to death, for the terrible 
crime of having in his house a sharp pointed knife, 
above the ordinary size, and a few ounces of powder 
and bird shot. This man would have been shot on the 
public square, had he not been reprieved by Marshal 
Radetsky, in consideration of his former quiet Hfe. 
This is a specimen of what is going on in these countries. 



AMERICAN AND FOREIGN HOMES. 29 

The people of the Papal States, of the Kingdoms of 
Naples, Tuscany, Lombard)^, Venice, Austria, Hungary, 
know nothing of the homes which liberty and law have 
given to Americans, nothing of the sweet security, the 
sacred peace, which the very name implies with us. 
The governments acknowledge no rights not vested in 
themselves. There is no safety for the individual, his 
family, or his possessions. The rule of the monarch is 
wholly arbitrary and irresponsible, resting entirely for 
its existence on the cannon and the sword. It, with the 
church, owns the people, soul and body, and disposes 
of all they have and all they are, as may best suit its 
interest, and secure its power. Even the sons of the 
family are claimed for the army, where there is more 
than one in proportion to the number. The citizen is 
never safe, never sure of anything, not even of his chil- 
dren, from one hour to the next — not even of himself. 

He may be seized in the night, dragged from his 
terrified family, by a brutal soldiery, or police, thrown 
into prison, and kept there as long as suits the pleasure 
of his oppressors, without a word of explanation. Per- 
haps he is known as entertaining opinions hostile to 
tyranny, and this is a method of amioyance and punish- 
ment, which may be repeated at pleasure. 

A- short time before our departure for home — a home 
indeed — several of the most respectable citizens of one 
of those contemptible Itahan Duchies, with a territory 
as large as a kitchen garden, were discharged from 
prison, after an incarceration of nearly four years, since 
3 



30 AMERICAN AND FOREIGN HOMES. 

1849, subject to all manner of deprivations, without 
trial, without one word of explanation, or one particle 
of redress, for the monstrous wrongs inflicted on them 
and their families ! 

In the city of Naples, I saw men of education, of 
mind, of unblemished character, chained with criminals 
of the vilest stamp, and made to break stones and col- 
lect the filth of the gutters, or work with galley slaves 
in cleaning the docks — and this for five, ten and twenty 
years, and for life. And these men were thus torn 
from their families, their property confiscated, their 
homes \iolated and broken up, and wife and children 
delivered up to want and beggary, for the expression 
of a poKtical opinion, or for a manly protest against the 
wrongs of their beloved and beautiful country ! 

These are the homes, this the security and peace and 
holy confidence of the family in Lombardy, Naples, the 
States of the Church, and all the dependencies of 
Austria — and it is not greatly otherwise in France. Is 
it not true, then, that there are no homes worthy of the 
name, in these Saharas of despotism ? 

These facts, when abroad, turned my thoughts to 
this land of Homes ; this land where the threshold and 
the hearthstone are never profaned by the foot of pow- 
er, and the family ties are never broken or outraged by 
spies, poUce or soldiers. 

Weary and worn with travel, I turned with a long- 
ing heart toward the chosen spot where dwelt those 
most dear to us. And there were times in our wander- 



AMERICAN AND FOEEIGN nOMES. 31 

ings "vvhen the ghastly forms of disease flitted before 
us, for a moment ; and alone in a strange land, among 
strange people, speaking a strange tongue, the pos- 
sibility of sickness, made us shrink, and the vision of 
dear Home, with its affection, its solicitous kindness, 
and watchful attentions, rose up before us with a vi\dd- 
ness, an attractive and tender beauty, such as it never 
knew before thousands of miles came between it and 
us. And I never till then felt the force and exceeding 
significance of that touching Arab benediction, — " May 
you die among your kindred." 

Still, it was the presence of the mournftil facts I 
have named, which more often recalled our American 
homes, and made us feel how much we have to prize 
in this respect — how much to be grateful for every 
hour in the day. Americans, look at your Homes — 
what security, what comforts, what absence of all fear ; 
your children safe in the embrace of affection, and 
growrg up in knowledge and virtue, growing up to 
usefulness, to individual enterprize — no government to 
tear them from you, and no army to appropriate, cor- 
rupt and destroy them. And then, gathered about your 
fii-eside; on the table lie newspapers, magazines and 
books, on all subjects of inquiry and knowledge, in all 
departments of Hterature, wherewith the evening passes 
pleasantly and profitably. 

Not so in the land we have named — no newspaper, 
no books, no intelligence for the people. Nothing is al- 
lowed to go to the printing press till it has passed the 



32 AMERICAN AND FOREIGN HOMES. 

censorship of the police and the church, that it contain 
no treason to the government, no heresy in rehgion. 
Despotism and CathoHcism unitedly dictate to the peo- 
ple what they may read, and anything beyond this is 
doom to the house where it is foimd. 

And then you, Americans, feel that you are your 
own — your soul, your body, all your smews and muscles. 
No one owns you, but God who 'made you. You can 
stand up as free men in the midst of your famihes — 
you go to yom' labor, to your amusements — you set out 
on a journey — you return — you rise in the morning, and 
lie down at night — with no terror of prisons or military 
courts and executions rismg in bloody \'ision before you. 

Thank God every day for these mercies. Compare 
your condition with the sufferers of Europe, and be 
patient under trifling mconveniences and vexations. 
Put away all mourning and complamt because of little 
troubles and deprivations. Indulge no vain desires for 
what you do not really need. Be done with all jeal- 
ousies and envies of others ncher than you. Be kind 
to each other and forbearing — cherish every member of 
the family circle — strive to put away all shadows from 
the households, and let in more and more sunshine. 
Bring out the table before the fireside, place the old 
family Bible on it, and read from its sacred pages every 
evenmg some lesson of God's goodness, some grand 
old psalm of praise for the mercies bestowed. Look 
around your cheerful homes, and see what some of those 
mercies are — recall the years gone by — remember how 



AMERICAN A>;D FOREIGN HOMES. 33 

all your life you have enjoyed the safety, the peace, the 
affection and blessedness of Home. And then bow at 
the altar of your common devotions, scatter thereon 
the incense of gratitude, and pray God to continue his 
favor unto us as a people, and preserve unto us the'ln- 
estimable blessings of secure and happy homes. 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 



BY DATID PAUL BROWN. 



There are three piineiples upon which the great 
American Party mainly relies for the security of its 
spiritual and temporal hopes. The first is the infal- 
hbihty of the Holy Bible, as the basis of all Hbert y, 
civil, political and religious. Secondly, we hold that all 
foreign influences, at home or abroad, are opposed to 
cm' national security, our national independence, and our 
national prosperity. Thu'dly, that such legislative en- 
actments should be adopted by the Congress of the 
United States as will preclude foreign influence, civil, 
political or religious, either at home or abroad. In 
short, for our spiritual guide we rely upon the Bible, 
and the Bible alone. For our political guide, we adopt 
the princij)les and policy of Washington, the father and 
preserver of liis country. 

I propose to consider these subjects in their order. 
As to the first, scarcely anything is required to be said. 
No man in a Christian land, whose opinion is worth a 
conflict, will be hardy enough, or impious enough to as- 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 35 

sail a position so sacred and impregnable. Every man 
is, or ought to be, a friend to the Bible, as the Bible is 
the friend to all ; their charter, their hope, their faith, 
their salvation. Without it, human government is a 
mockery. Human laws a curse, — human life, a dream, 
human hope, a grave. Its sanction and protection by 
men and nations are not so necessary to itself, as it 
shines in the light of Heaven, and cannot be obscured ; 
as it is guarded by the power of Heaven and cannot be 
assailed ; I say its protection by human aids is not so 
necessary to itself, as to the character, the security, and 
the permanence and happiness of all earthly institutions. 
Considered apart from its divine authority — adopted 
as a mere temporal code, it Avould form a more secm-e 
constitution or basis for national government than could 
be produced by the condensation and adaptation of all 
the wisdom of all the philosophers, sages, statesmen 
and law-givers, from the beginning of time down, to the 
present day. Exclusive of that divine volume, scrip- 
tural truth is to worldly governments, what the soul is 
to the physical frame of man, — its light, its life, its mo- 
tion, its joy, its strength, its treasure. Our forefathers 
were not unmindful of tliis gi-eat truth, in the adoption 
of the Federal Constitution, which arose out of the de- 
struction of the Articles of Confederation ; not like the 
Arabian bird from the ashes of its ancestor, — but rather, 
if I may say it reverentially, like light and order from 
original darkness and chaos. 

The adoption of the constitution of the United States, 



36 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

gave rise to the two great political j^arties in this countr)^, 
the Federalists, and the Democrats. The Federalists 
being those who contended for larger powers in the 
Federal or General Government as being necessary for 
its efficient administration, and the true mterests of the 
States, — and the latter looking jealously upon every 
increase of national power, as derogatory and detrimental 
to what were called State Rights, and the interests of 
the People. With concessions on both sides, however, 
wliich I have neither the time nor the mclination mi- 
nutely to discuss, this admu-able instrument was adopted 
and became the som*ce of national authority, and the 
paramoimt law of the land, so that om* government ex- 
hibited not an miapt simihtude to the state of man. 
The Federal Government being the heart, surromided 
and connected with the nervous, the arterial, the mus- 
cular, and the osseous systems, or it may be more aptly 
said to be " a noble contrivance to give regularity and 
harmony to a system, the parts of which acknowledge 
independent laws, and gravitate as it were towards dif- 
ferent suns — while the whole move m one common or- 
bit, and are bound to obey a central attraction, for the 
maintenance of internal order, and of their relations to 
the external world." 

The government formed under the name of the United 
States of America, is declared, in the language of the 
Constitution, to be " ordained and estabKshed by the 
people, in order to form a more perfect Union, — es- 
tablish justice, — ensm'e domestic tranquility, — provide 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 37 

for the common defence, promote the general welfare, 
and secure the blessings of hberty to themselves and 
posterity." By this constitution, founded upon these 
views, -without discussing its general properties, it is pro- 
vided that the National Government shall pass no laws 
impairing rehgious or conscientious rights, and it is fiu*- 
ther provided that it shall have the exclusive privilege 
to pass laws regulating Natm-alization ; these two pro- 
visions are all that legitimately belong to the present' 
subject of discussion. 

Now, no man who professes to be a Conservative or 
Constitutionalist, (to adopt a less offensive term,) has the 
right for a single moment, whatever may be his incK- 
nation, to entrench upon the religious duties or con- 
scientious views of any of his fellow-men, either as bodies 
or individuals. The moment he does so, he impugns 
the Constitution, and violates the ver>' principles upon 
which he must depend for the protection of his own re- 
ligious faith, " teaching thereby bloody instruction, which 
being taught retm*ns to plague the inventor." 

A Dublui Journal, of high rejiute, and peculiarh' en- 
titled to regard, upon the subject judiciously observes, 
that it is much better for Mshmen in America to spread 
through the country, than to congi-egate in large cities ; 
and until they have resided long enough in America to 
be thoroughly acquainted with the merits of American 
politics, and have learned to act and feel as Americans 
solely, it were better to waive any poKtical privileges 
they may acquire, than listen to the solicitations of 



38 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

men who will urge them to vote as Irishmen. The 
questions are American. These privileges are conferred 
on the voters as naturalized Americans, not as Irishmen, 
and as Americans they should use them. 

These remarks, though directed to Irishmen, are equal- 
ly applicable to any other foreigners who seek an asylum 
or home on this side of the Atlantic. The only reason 
for particularizing the Irish, Is, that the number of im- 
migrants from the Emerald Isle is so much greater than 
those from any other country, perhaps we might say 
from all other countries, as to exhibit them more prom- 
inently in the line of this discussion. It may also be 
said, that from the impulsive character of these people, 
and their natural jealousy of restraint, they are more 
liable to the imputation of unthinldngly enlisting them- 
selves beneath the banner of crafty and designing po- 
litical demagogues, and thereby exercising a deplorable 
influence upon the interests and safety of the country. 
Nor is it more important that foreign residents among 
us should avoid this injudicious interference in the con- 
cerns peculiar to the comitry, than that those who are 
admitted to the full privilege of citizenship should ab- 
stain from all political interference in the controversy of 
foreign nations, either of an intestine or of an external 
character. That family whose attention is too much di- 
rected to the concerns of its neighbors, never enjoys en- 
tire peace, nor observes good order at home. And this 
simple domestic truth, is as applicable to Nations as to in- 
dividuals. Heaven forbid that I should condemn the ex- 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 39. 

ercise of becoming sympathy or brotherly love between 
members of the great family of mankind, wherever 
born or wherever then- lot may have been cast. But 
we should not forget in our tender regard for those at a 
distance, that those -with whom we have taken up our ■ 
chosen abode have paramount claims upon our affectionSj, 
and that we should beware of the adoption of any- 
measures, which, while they may have a supposed ten- 
dency to relieve those whom we have left from oppres- 
sion, also obviously tend to involve those Mith whom we 
are united, in war, and in bloodshed. Avoid as you 
would a pestilence, every unnecessary interference with 
the policy or principles of foreign governments. Steer 
by the chart that has been bequeathed to you by the 
Father of his Country, " against the insidious vales of 
foreign influence, or I may humbly add, the temptations 
to foreign interference. The jealousy of a free peojile 
ought to be constantly awake, since history and expe- 
rience prove that they are the most baneful /oes of a 
Republican Government." 

Many of the evils which attend indiscriminate im- 
migration, would be removed, or greatly mitigated, by the 
salutary eiFect of a prolonged residence among us, which 
requirement, necessarily, as a matter of equality, must 
be applicable to all foreigners. We cannot regidate for 
classes of men, much less for individuals. The law 
must be general, and not adapted to the peculiar tem- 
perament or idiosyncrasy of men. National Policy 
clearly requires that the facilities of naturalization should 



40 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

be dimimshed. The laws regulating citizenship, have 
been varied, from the foundation of the government, un- 
til the present day, according to circumstances, as af- 
fecting the question of National welfare. To say noth- 
ing as to the specific laws at this moment, it certainly 
cannot be contended, that a nation like ours, camiot ex- 
ercise the power of excluding foreigners, or receiving 
them upon advantageous terms. K no such power ex- 
isted, overstocked Europe has nothing to do but to pour 
in her legions of subjects, born and bred up mider the 
influence of !Monarchial Listitutions, and paupers, and 
malefactors, and all, — and thus in the com-se of a few 
years, msidiously if not openly, indu'ectly if not du-ectly, 
sap and destroy the fomidations of a Republic. To say 
that the Government has the right to defend itself in 
open war, is but to say that it has the right to protect it- 
self mider the panoply of its laws, even in periods of 
profomid peace, by the preparations of peace, and the 
foresight of peace. 

But before proceeduig ■vrith om* remarks on the sub- 
ject of a modification of the Naturalization laws, and the 
importance of immediate measures directed to that re- 
sult, I shall proceed to present in chronological order, 
the different Legislative enactments of the United States, 
providing for the natm-ahzation of Aliens. 

The Act of March 26th, 1790, required the Alien to 
reside -within the limits and mider the jurisdiction of the 
United States two years before liis admission as a citizen. 
The Act of February 13th, 1795, required the Alien so 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 41 

to reside five years before his admission — and the Act 
of June 18th, 1798, requu-ed him thus to reside fom*- 
teeen years before his admission as a citizen. These 
Acts have been repealed. The Act of April 14th, 1802, 
now in force, requires of the Alien five years residence 
■\vithin the limits and under the jmisdiction of the United 
States before his admission as a citizen. The subse- 
quent acts aU recognize the same time of residence. 
The Act of March 14th, 1790, was the first of those 
acts. It required the Alien to reside two years -within 
the limits, and mider the jurisdiction of the United 
States before his admission as a citizen. At the time of 
his admission, he was required to satisfy the Com-t ad- 
mitting him, that he was a man of good moral charac- 
ter, and attached to the institutions of the country. He 
was at the same time reqmred to renounce under oath, 
or affirmation, all foreign allegiance and titles of No- 
bility ; and to declare under oath that he would support 
the Constitution of the United States. The children 
of the AKens so naturalized, minors at the time of their 
parents' naturahzation, dwelling within the limits, and 
under the jm-isdiction of the United States, and the 
cliildren of citizens of the United States, though bom 
beyond the sea, were ordained to be considered as citi- 
zens. But no one was to enjoy the rights of citizenshij) 
whose father had never resided within the Kmits of the 
United States. Tliis act was repealed by the act of 
1795. 
The Act of February 13th, 1793, was the second of 



42 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

those Acts. This act requii-ed the Alien to reside five 
years within the limits and under the jurisdiction of 
the United States before his admission as a citizen. The 
Alien's character and behavior, his renunciation of his 
foreign allegiance, and titles of nobility — his declaration 
of intention, liis promise under oath or affirmation to 
support the Constitution of the United States, were the 
same as those of the act of 1802, to which I shall here- 
after refer. This act was repealed by that of 1798. 

The Act of Jmie 18th, 1798, which was the thu'd of 
those acts, required of the Alien to reside fourteen years, 
within the limits of the United States before his admis- 
sion as a citizen. Five years before his admission, he 
was required to declare, under oath or affirmation, liis 
bona fide intention to become a citizen of the United 
States. His evidence of character and behavior, his 
renunciation of foreign allegiance and titles of nobihty, 
his promise, mider oath or affirmation, to support the 
Constitution of the United States, were the same as 
those of the act of 1802. Every alien, on liis arrival 
in the United States, was required to be registered by 
the Clerk of the District Court of the United States, 
or by the Collector of the Port of Arrival, if there was 
no such clerk within ten miles, or by some other United 
States officers appointed for the pm-pose. At the same 
time he was reqmi-ed to declare under oath or affirma- 
tion, his name, age, former country, his sovereign, occu- 
pation, and former residence, and the place where he 
intended to reside in the United States. All these 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 43 

declarations and other facts were requii-ed to be taken 
down in writing by such clerk or other officer. A cer- 
tificate of them was required to be furnished to such 
alien, and a similar certificate was required to be trans- 
mitted Avithin three months to the Secretary of State 
of the United States. The date of the certificate was 
ordamed to be the evidence before the admitting Court, 
of the time when the ahen's residence commenced in 
the United States. The Clerk of the Admitting Court 
was bound to record all the material facts and condi- 
tions above stated. He was also bound to record a de- 
scription of the ahen's jjerson, and transmit the same to 
the Secretary of State of the United States. This act 
was also repealed by that of 1802. 

The Act of April 14th, 1802, the fourth of those acts^ 
provides that the ahen shall have resided m the United 
States five years before his admission. The same act 
declares, that the ahen, three years before his admission, 
shall, on oath or affirmation, declare his bona Jide in- 
tention to become a citizen of the United States, and 
renounce forever all foreign allegiance generally, and 
especially his allegiance to his immediate Sovereign, — 
and in the same way renounce all titles of nobility. At 
the time of his admission he must declare, on oath or 
affirmation, that he will support the Constitution of the 
United States, and again in the same way renounce all 
foreign allegiance generally and specially. At the 
time of this admission, he must satisfy the Court, that, 
during his residence he has behaved as a man of good 



44 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

moral character, attached to the principles of the Con- 
s'.itution of the United States and well disposed to the 
good order and happiness of the same. At the same 
time he was reqiiu'ed again in the same manner to 
renomice generally and specially all foreign allegiance, 
and all titles of nobility, — and mider oath or affirma- 
tion, to promise that he would support the Constitution 
of the United States. Any Com-t of record in any 
individual State, having common law jm-isdiction, and 
a Seal and Clerk or prothonotary, shall be considered a 
District Court mthin the meaning of this act, and capa- 
ble of receiving Declarations of Intention and admitting 
foreigners as citizens. The children of persons duly 
natm-alized under any of the laws of the United States, 
or under the laws of any of the States before the pas- 
sage of any United States laws on the subject, and who 
were minors at the time of the natm'sKzation of their 
parents, shall, if dwelling in the United States, be con- 
sidered as citizens of the United States, and so shall the 
children of such persons as now are, or shall hereafter 
be citizens of the United States — provided, by the same 
act, that the rights of citizenship shall not descend to 
persons whose fathers have never resided in the United 
States. 

The Act of March 26th, 1804, was the fifth of those 
acts. This act provides, that any person who was re- 
siding within the Hmits, and under the jm*isdiction of 
the United States at any time between Jime 18th, 
1798, and April 14th, 1802, and having so continued to 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIEXS. 45 

reside, may become a citizen of tlie United States 
without declaration of intention, required by the act of 
April 14th, 1802. The same act provides, that if any 
alien shall have made the declaration required by the 
act of April 14th, 1802, and shall have pursued the 
directions of. the first and second sections of the same 
act requiring a general and special renunciation of 
foreign allegiance, and if such alien die before admis- 
sion, his widow and cliildren shall be considered as citi- 
zens of the United States, and entitled to all the rights 
of citizenship, on taking the oaths or affirmations pre- 
scribed by law. 

The Act of March 3d, 1813, was the sixth of those 
acts. This act provides that no person who shall arrive 
in the United States, from and after the termination of 
the war in which the United States were then engaged 
with Great Britain, who shall not for the continued 
term of five years next preceding liis admission as 
aforesaid, have resided within the United States \vithout 
being at any time during the said five years out of the 
territory of the United States. 

The Act of March 22d, 1816, was the seventh of those 
acts. Any alien, having resided in the United States 
between the 18th June, 1798, and the 14th Apiil, 
1802, and having continued so to reside, shall become 
a citizen of the United States without the declaration 
of intention required by the act of April 14th, 1809. 
By the same act, it is required that any alien having so 
resided before the 14th April, 1802, and maldng ap- 
4 



46 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

plication for admission without the certificate of the 
Declaration of Intention required by the said act of April 
14th, 1802, shall prove to the satisfaction of the Court 
applied to for admission, that he did so reside before the 
14th April, 1802, and that he has continued to reside in 
the same. But the alien's residence ^dthin the Hmits and 
under the jm-isdiction of the United States for five 
years preceding liis appHcation, must be proved by the 
oaths or affirmations of citizens of the United States. 

The Act of May 26th, 1824, was the eighth of those 
acts. This act provides, that any alien minor who shall 
have resided in the United States three years before 
attaining liis majority, and next preceding such majority 
of twenty-one years, may, after arrivmg at such ma- 
jority of twenty-one years, and after having resided in 
the United States five years, including the tln:ee years 
of liis minority, become a citizen of the United States 
without making the declaration of mtention reqmred by 
the act of April 14th, 1802. But such alien must, at 
the time of his admission, satisfy the Court that, for 
three years preceding his application, it had been Ms 
bona Jide inteniioji to become a citizen of the United 
States. 

The Act of May 24th, 1828, was the ninth of those 
acts. Tliis act merely repeals certain sections of prior 
acts. 

The Courts empowered to receive the declarations 
and admit aliens, are Courts of record of the United 
States, or of a State, or of a Territory, or of the Dis- 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 47 

trict of Columbia. The oath of the alien himself, or 
his affirmation, are permitted to prove nearly all liis 
personal states and conditions excepting his residence. 
Now I am rejoiced to be able to say that it has been 
confided to one of om- ablest Representatives in Con- 
gress,* a man the most distinguished, among the dis- 
tinguished, for his vii'tues and his talents, to procure 
from the National Legislature such alteration of the 
existing laAvs upon this great subject, as will be calcu- 
lated to secure the country in future from the destruc- 
tiveness of foreign influence exercised too often and 
too fatally within the very vitals of the land. Let us 
always remember the experience and history of the 
past. Athens, the Queen of the Violet Crown, — the 
proud and peerless mistress of the world, was still 
curelessly corrupted by Persian Gold ; — and all Greece 
was divided and destroyed, fi-om the moment that Pliilip 
of Macedon became one of the Amphyctionic council. 
The mere alteration of the laws just referred to, how- 
ever satisfactory in its character, can virtually amount 
to nothing, unless such measm-es or collateral provisions 
be adopted as may lead effectually to guard and pro- 
tect them from circumvention and fraud, or the scarcely 
less fatal effects of indifference, inattention or neglect 
on the part of those to whom their practical enforce- 
ment or execution may be entrusted. Nay; even if 
these difficulties or apprehensions were removed, it 
would still be insufficient. Unnaturalized foreigners, in 

*Hon. J. R. Ingersoll. 



48 NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

the assumed guise of citizens, may interfere in a thou- 
sand ways, wliich the mind of the reader will suggest, 
(without my pausing to present and consider them,) 
with the purity and result of our elections. This must 
be obviated by being rendered highly penal, and that, 
too, with a precision and distinctness that will prevent 
any escape or evasion. In the enactment of the laws 
alluded to, great care should be taken, not only to pre- 
vent the adoption of foreigners before they become 
familiar with our institutions and identified with the 
interests of the country, but we must also look to their 
moral qualifications and fitness, without which no length 
of time should entitle them either to declare their mten- 
tions to become citizens, or finally entitle them to be- 
come legalized members of this great Republic. There 
is no injustice, no hardship in all this. In its conse- 
quences it will be a blessing to the entire community 
and country, — and any man that does not perceive it, 
must attribute the want of the discovery to the fact 
that his own feelings or senses have not become suffi- 
ciently Americanized, but that he contemplates this 
great subject under the influence of foreign jirejudice, 
or in other words, through foreign spectacles. The 
verj' laws, the very protection here recommended, can 
impose no restrictions upon our citizens, either native or 
naturalized, as they now exist. Upon the contrary, 
they even give to our adopted brethren, if I may so 
call them, almost incalculable advantages. To speak 
of it as it bears upon foreigners alone, is it not mon- 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 49 

strous, that where there are millions among us who 
have been engrafted upon our stock for the last twenty 
years, and grown up with us, and now enjoy all otir im- 
munities and privileges, that any and every person who 
may come for the first time on our shores to-morrow, 
shall, in five years from that time, exercise the same 
power over matters that involve your pecuniary, moral, 
civil, poHtical, or religious interest, as those who are the 
children of the soil, or who have been united to it by 
long and laborious years, all manifesting devotion to its 
prosperity, — whose families are here, whose property 
is here, whose feelings are here, and whose hopes are 
here, to the exclusion of all foreign attraction or affinity ? 
I say nothing now of usurped offices, or aspiration after 
supremacy of themselves or others, over the j)resent 
residents — things that are well and practically under- 
stood ; but still, these matters, if taken into account, 
add largely to the oppressiveness and enormity of the 
picture. 

The details of those laws thus suggested, must be 
c.irefully considered, and from time to time improved, 
as circumstances may require. Immigrants should be 
required to bring with them certificates of a satisfac- 
tory character from our foreign ministers or consuls, 
that we may avoid the responsibifity for the support of 
paupers, and escape what is much worse, the contagious 
example, aS well as the direct curse, arising from the 
immigration of criminals and felons mto the bosom of 
the comitry, wliich, like bad motives in the human 
heart, inflect and contaminate the whole body poHtic. 



50 KATURALIZATION OF ALIENS. 

To show that this is not an imaginary evil, against 
which I direct these remarks, I refer the reader to the 
statement of Mr. List, U. S. Consul at Leipsic. In an 
official letter he states, that propositions have been 
made in Saxony, for transporting criminals to the port 
of Bremen, and embarldng them for the United States, 
wliich offers have been generally accepted. The first 
transport of criminals, who, for the greater part had 
been condemned to hard labor for Hfe, some of whom 
are notorious robbers, will leave Gotha on the 10th of 
this month — and it is intended, by-and-by, to empty 
the jails and work-houses of that country in this man- 
ner ! It has of late, also, become a general practice in 
the towns and boroughs of Germany, to get rid of their 
paupers and vicious members, by collecting the means 
for effecting their passage to the United States, among 
the inhabitants, and by supplying them from the public 
funds. What, my fellow citizens, is to be the result of 
this course ? Pauperism, crime, contaminative outrage, 
overflowing prisons, swarming alms-houses, increased 
taxation, and finally, a total overthrow either of the 
government, or at all events, of all that makes the 
govermnent worthy of preservation, — fair to the eye 
and precious to the heart. 

My task is now done. I have, in a hasty and im- 
perfect mamier, presented to the public the prominent 
principles and views of the great American Party — 
summed up thus: — The inviolable sanctity of the 
Bible ; entire freedom of conscience ; the exclusion of 



NATURALIZATION OF ALIIiNS. 61 

foreign influence, and the adoption of such laws as may 
in future preclude its exercise. It will be observed, 
that, in regard to our National Constitution, the views 
of tliis Party are strictly conservative. While they 
jealously guard their o^\ii inestimable rights, secured to 
them by the 'v^dsdom and valor of their forefathers, who 
gave blood and life for liberty, they do not entrench 
upon the rights of others, either as individuals or as 
sects — as men or as Christians. We open our arms, 
and our homes, and om* hearts, to the jjersecuted and. 
oppressed. We tender them protection, support and 
encouragement. We offer to them and their children, 
.to the end of time, the advantages and the countless 
blessings of the most glorious Republic that the world 
ever knew, or the smi ever saw, — and all that we ask 
in return, is then' hearty concm*rence in those whole- 
some and salutary regulations, mthout which, the gov- 
ernment wliich guard them and us in a few years must 
cease to exist, and furmsh another hapless illustration to 
the historic page, of the instability of Republics. 



THE AMERICAN MOVEMENT 



BY CHARLES R. ATWOOD. 



The important question which is now agitating the 
public mind, involves, as we believe, the most momen- 
tous consequences, and should be studied and pondered,, 
and effectually acted upon, by every lover of our liberty, 
and our country, without longer hesitation or delay. 
We mean the great question of foreign citizenship, in- 
volved in the perpetuity of our present naturahzation 
laws, now under discussion by the peojile, a question 
which has brought into existence a new political party. 

Thus far every movement which has been made by 
the new party, has shaken the pillars of the Belshazzar 
palaces of the old political organizations, from top to 
bottom, and the bats and owls have been driven from 
their hiding places, wliile the dust of ages, in which the 
unclean political bu-ds have built their nests, and per- 
formed their incubations, has been shaken from archi- 
trave and column into the eyes of the astonished po- 
litical liigh-prjests, now in power. 

Tliis wonderful dust, thus disturbed, is producing, in 



THE AMERICAN MOVEMENT. 5^ 

many instances, unaccountable mirages, in and through 
"which political schemes, dreams and exj^ectations pre- 
sent themselves m a luminous and double form — and 
in other cases a kind of opthalmy, which darkens the po» 
litical horizon like an eclipse, compelling the old fogies 
to see stars, and sometimes comets, with very long tailsj. 
in the day time. 

The new party, as we understand, professes to be 
American in heart and soul — it proposes the repeal, or 
modification of the present naturalization laws — op- 
poses the election of all foreigners, and especially Ro- 
man Catholics, to any office in the gift of the people^, 
and demands the enactment of such laws by Congress, 
as shall effectually prohibit the emigration and trans-, 
portation of the profligacy of the old country, in the 
shape of felons and other outcasts, to tlus country, 
which has proved a bane and curse from the commence- 
ment of its organization to the present time. 

Hitherto, this foetid tide has been, not only permit- 
ed, but encouraged by those in power, to pour its rank 
and poisonous streams, broadcast, throughout our coim- 
try, carrying death and desolation — crime, misery and 
pauperism into city, town and hamlet. 

The membars of the American Party, have planted 
themselves upon the principles which laid the founda- 
tion o? our glorious IlepubHc, and have pledged them- 
selves to peril all, for the maintenance and perpetuity 
of that liberty and independence, wliich was secured to. 
us by the blood and treasure of our fathers. To this 



H TKE AMERICAN MO'VTMENT. 

end, the honest and true hearted native sons of all 
parties, have combined, and are still combining — and 
in order to secm*e success, which shall be permanent, 
they have broken the shackles of the old parties, ■which 
have so long bound them hand and foot, and formed a 
new party, whose shield is the American Eagle, whose 
principles those of the immortal "Washington. 

They are well aware that to ensure this success, it 
will be in the outset necessary to break up the old par- 
ties, which have so long pandered for the foreign vote, 
by Idssing hands vdth Roman Catholic Bishops, and bow- 
ing in servility before the august toe of his majesty the 
Pope. Such a desecration of American principles, and 
the true spuit of mdependence, and Hberty, by any 
party, deserves the contempt of all honest men. 

They therefore propose to crush out all hybrid orga- 
nizations of this kind — to turn out the money-changers 
jfrom the political temple, and to perform a lustration 
which shall be healthy and salutary for the coimtry. 
The pettifogging demagogues and wire-pulling pimps, 
the unprincipled and corrupt political hacks, who by the 
pm'chase and sale of votes, and the reckless disregard 
of all moral principle, which has so long disgraced them- 
selves, and our poHtical parties — and through them 
our country — must be nailed to the pillory of public 
indignation and scorn — and the rights and privileges 
of American citizens, must be preserved, maintained 
and secured for the future, by placing in office none but 
honest, and patriotic native-bom citizens. 



THE AMERICAN MOVEMENT. 56 

They believe that the free institutions of our country 
are in danger from the insidious worldngs of peijured 
Jesuits, who are through the complicity .of certain po- 
litical Judases, — neither few nor far between — en- 
deavoring to fasten their poisonous fangs upon the very 
heart of liberty — to sap its life-blood, and to tumble 
its glorious temple into ruins, for the purpose of erect- 
ing thereupon the liberty crushing hierarchy of the 
Harlot, and establishing here the supremacy of the Ro- 
man Catholic Church, to be followed by its concomi- 
tants, ignorance, superstition, lust, crime and despotism. 
And therefore, it is that this new party have planted 
themselves upon the broad platform of American rights 
and freedom, determined to fight under the stars and 
stripes of our flag, until the ballot box is piu-ged of the 
votes of foreigners — our laws made, and justice ad- 
ministered, by none but native born citizens. 

A great hue and cry is sounding throughout the 
country, in the columns of some of the leading poHtical 
journals of the day, against this American movement. 
Those who are engaged in it, are denounced as enemies 
to liberty, free suffrage, and the legitimate principles of 
democracy, and freedom. We are told that a foreigner, 
after passing through the crucible of naturalization, 
should be considered equal m all particulars to an 
American — allowed to vote — hold office — make our 
laws, and take rank in all respects with the native citi- 
zen. That it is in derogation of the first principles of 
freedom, to disfranchise any man, on account of his 



56 THE AMEKICAN MOVEMENT. 

birth, his country or Ms creed. This doctrine the new 
party repudiate ; these assertions they deny, and boldly 
denounce the naturalization laws as they now stand, as a 
fraud upon the rights of every native born citizen, sub- 
versive of the first principles of true liberty, and pro- 
ductive — in a majority of cases — of the rankest per- 
jury and deception. 

This preposterous claim from these fast demagogues, 
and the Pope, for such tools and vassals to be admitted 
to the privileges of citizenshij:), by merely renouncing 
allegiance to other powers, on the part of the applicants, 
is in perfect keeping with the principles of the former, 
and the pretensions of the latter. But how much of 
the spirit of reciprocity does his Holiness manifest, with 
regard to the rights and privileges of Protestants un- 
der his government, where the sacred rights of sejjul- 
ture are still denied our comitrymen by tliis same im- 
maculate pretender and despot. And of what binding 
force is an oath administered by a Protestant to a Cath- 
olic ? Cannot the priest absolve him and make him 
believe that he is ser\ing both God and the Pope by 
committing peijury ? Is there, then, any ^safety for us, 
for our country, as long as the present naturalization 
laws last ? The new party answer emphatically, No ! 

Moreover, voters, in many of our cities are manu- 
factiu-ed by the wholesale — and to order — to suit pm*- 
chasers, without regard to character or qualification ; 
and it is the systematic practice of foreign governments 
to export their paupers, jail-birds, felons and criminals 



THE AMERICAN MOVEMENT. 67 

of all descriptions, from their alms-houses, and prisons 
to this country — paying their transportation in ad- 
vance — for the purpose of relieving their OAvn countries 
from such an incubus and cm'se, and enricliing our 
country with such an invaluable acquisition. 

This has been the practice for years, cind the number 
of these exported emigrants is still rapidly increasing ; 
these facts are, and have been from the commencement, 
well kno^Mi to our government, and up to the jjresent 
time, we have had no Executive which has dared to call 
attention to the same — no national Legislature that has 
dared to interfere for its suppression. Do these men 
at the head of our government want these social out- 
casts for voters ? They can always depend upon their 
votes so long as the bribe offered is sufficiently large, 
and that rarely fails when the parties in the market 
have both hands in the pubhc crib, and Uncle Sam's 
money-bags are in a plethoric condition ! Such men 
connive at the continuance of the present, and would 
doubtless oppose any other laws intended for the pro- 
hibition of the export and emigration of such candi- 
dates for American citizenship. Such men also seri- 
ously tell us, that this is the class of people whom this 
free republic must consent to install into the privileges 
of American citizens, in order to carry out the true 
spirit of liberty and freedom. Do they consider how 
much this statement includes ? Without doubt there 
are many good persons who come to this country from 
abroad, but we regret to say facts prove that there are 



58 THE AMERICAN MOVEMENT. 

many bad people also. And what we complain of is, 
that we are compelled, under the present laws, to take 
this latter class to om; arms and sympathies, as good 
candidates for voters, ojffice-holders and law-makers. 
A class of people who are without the slightest quaU- 
fication for any such trust. What say you, reader, 
ought tliis so to be ? 

Is there any safety for our laws, our institutions, or 
our country, while such is the fact ? We say, no ! Is 
it safe to trust the making of our laws to any party, 
which is base enough to pander for such voters, or to 
uphold and sustain such an unprincipled and dangerous 
system ? Is it safe to confide the ship of State to the 
management of such a piratical crew, as would inevit- 
ably be shipped by any party, professing such political 
sentiments as those which the new party have arisen 
to put down ? — again we answer, NO ! 

Any men or set of men who are willing to seek an 
election by such means, and from such sources, must 
hereafter be content to have themselves classed as the 
friends and supporters of those, who burn our houses, 
plunder our property, murder and mob our citizens, 
rob our defenceless old men and women, overrun our 
prisons and alms-houses, ravish our wives and daugh- 
ters, upon our very hearth-stones, waylay and mal-treat 
our innocent and helpless females, in our fields and 
forests, making them victims to their beastly lusts, turn- 
ing our Sabbaths into drunken holidays, and making 
our streets unsafe by night and day. Is it safe to 



THE AMERIC^iN MO\'EMENT. 59 

trust politicians, who band and fraternize with such a 
class, for the purpose of putting themselves into power ? 
In God's name, we repeat, NO ! — Away Vvith all such 
laws, and law-makers — down with all such political 
hacks, and demagogues, who, by seeking such contam- 
inating alliances, would sell their bii'th-right for less 
than a mess of pottage. 

[^Plant the stars and stripes upon the great platform 
of American Hberty ; let our watchword be now and 
forever — " Put none but Americans on guard here for 
all coming time." Let us hereafter place such men in 
power as we can trust — men whom we know to be 
true to liberty, in its true sense — men who will pass 
such naturalization laAvs, as shall effectually and forever 
put down and crush out all the elements which are now 
at work to undermme our freedom, and bring us to the 
feet of the Pope of Rome. /Men who love liberty, and 
will devote themselves to the preservation of their 
country and its glorious institutions. ' "VYe have had 
the temple of hberty desecrated long enough — our 
old men have been mal-treated and knocked down at 
the polls, insulted and abused, driven from our ballot 
boxes, by those, or the like of them, who have been 
sent here by the despots of the old v.'orld, and made 
citizens mider the present laws, long enough, one would 
suppose, to satisfy the*largest lovers of hberty ! It be- 
comes our sacred duty, therefore, to unite as one man, 
and resolve to bring back this government to the ad- 
ministration of those principles upon which it was 
originally founded. 



60 THE AMERICAN MOVEMENT. 

In order to keep the ark of liberty safe, it must be 
confided solely to the hands of native born citizens, to 
those in whom the love of comitry is paramount to all 
other considerations. 

This gasconade which politicians and political news- 
papers make about the spirit of Hberty, — open arms 
to all foreigners — a refuge for the down-trodden of 
other lands — citizenship for paupers and criminals ; 
equal rights and privileges to emigrants without qual- 
ification, or discrimination — free-suffrages and fellow- 
ship with the offscourings of despotism, is an unmiti- 
gated humbug — wicked, dangerous and disastrous in 
its effects, and must be stayed at all hazards — and we 
trust that every patriotic son of liberty will respond 
amen to this declaration. We call upon all Americans, 
therefore, to come to the rescue, and for tliis pm-pose 
to put into requisition the united strength, the back- 
bone and the strong arm of our country. 

Fellow citizens, if you would preserve the liberties 
of your country, and keep the watchfires around its 
altar burning forever, away with these fatal delusions, 
which designing intriguers, men without principle, or 
love of country, are endeavoring to instil into your 
minds, for the purpose of obtaining power and place, 
regardless of the consequences — earnest and hopefiil 
for nothing but their own benefiftand exaltation. Their 
motto is, "to the victors belong the spoils" — heed 
them not — trust them not — put them effectually and 
forever down, and fill all offices with native American 



THE AMERICAN MO"VEMENT. 61 

born citizens. Thus, and thus only, can you preserve 
and perpetuate the Hberties confided to your trust by 
the immortal heroes of our revolution. Thus, and thus 
only, can you transmit your inlieritance to your chil- 
dren. 

I The bugles of Hberty are now sounding from hill 
top and valley — from shore to shore — from sea to* 
sea ; — up, then, and arm for the coming contest, and 
let our rallying cry forever be, the star-spangled ban- 
ner — the home of the free,*l 



THE BURSTING OF THE CHAIN 



BY BOBERT NICOLL. 



AN ANTHEM FOR THE THIRD CENTENARY OF THE 
REFORMATION. 



INSCRIBED TO THE REV. H. (TLARKE. 



An offering to the shrine of Power 

Our hands shall never bring — 
A garland on the car of Pomp 

Our hands shall never fling — 
Applauding in the Conqueror's path 

Our voices ne'er shall be ; 
But we have hearts to honor those 

Who bade the world go free ! 

Stern Ignorance man's soul had bound 

In fetters rusted o'er 
With tears — with scalding human tears 

And red with human gore ; 
But men arose — the Men to whom 

We bend the freeman's knee — 
Who, God-encouraged, burst the chain, 

And made our fathers free ! 



THE BURSTING OF THE CHAIN. 63' 

Light dwelt where darkness erst had been — 

The morn of mind arose — 
The dawning of that day of love 

Wliich never more shall close ; 
Joy grew more joyful, and more green 

The valley and the lea, — 
The glorious sun from heaven look'd down, 

And smiled upon the free ! 

Truth came, and made its home below ; 

And universal love. 
And brotherhood, and peace, and joy, 

Are following from above : 
And happy ages on the earth 

Humanity shall see ; 
And happy Hps shall bless their names 

Who made our children free ! 

Praise to the good — the pure — the great — 

Who made us what we are ! — 
Who lit the flame which yet shall glow 

With radiance brighter far : — 
Glory to them in coming time. 

And through eternity ! 
They burst the captive's galling chain. 

And bade the world go free ! 



LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 



BY MKS. N. S. MUNROE. 



*' What sought they thus afar? 
Bright jewels of the mine? 
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? 
They sought a faith's pure shrine." 

Yes, they sought a faith's pure shrine. Fleeing 
from persecution, pressing the faith they loved close 
to their hearts — willing to bear all, suffer all, for that 
faith's sake — leaving the land they loved and the 
graves of their kindred — weary with tossing upon 
the deej) — mooring their bark at last on the wild New 
England shore — stepj^ing their feet upon the cold, 
barren rocks — the shore white with snow before 
them — cold Winter aromid — no house — no home — 
so came the wanderers in the Mayflower to Plymouth 
Rock. Was there anytliing cheering in the j)rospect ? 
Must they not have loved their faith to have it sup- 
port them now. 

Stern, hardy men were there, who could buffet with 
the elements, saving the axe, and build themselves a 



LANDING OF THE PILGHIMS. 65 

hxome and feel what a glorious thing it is to be free. 
But woman was there, and children, too ; yea, the cliild 
whose eyes had but a few days before opened upon the 
world. What could they do ? Yet they had a mis- 
sion too. 

History tells us, and we suppose tells us true, that 
the desire for religious freedom was the prime cause of 
the settlement of this country; but always, under- 
neath the principal causes of any great movement, flow 
a hundred undercurrents. 

Not all came for the love of their faith. Some were 
influenced by other motives ; for there on board the 
Mayflower, mixed with the stern Pm-itans, were two 
who possessed not even the Puritanic faith. They 
m\de no long prayers, but read them from the hturgy 
of the Church of England. 

Yet they too had fled, like their stern companions, 
from persecutions, not for religion, but for love's sake. 
He, the son of a noble but impoverished family, had 
been expected by a proud father to retrieve his for- 
tunes by m irrying an heiress ; but unfortunately fixing 
his aflfections upon one no richer than himself, and 
marrying her secretly, his father had discarded him 
forever. She, too, had incurred the deej) displeasure 
of her parents. And so, leaving father, mother and 
home, stung in their hearts, they had come to the wilds 
of America, little knowing what they must endure. 

Silently they had fled^ No father nor mother's 
blessing followed them ; and sometimes Avhen the 



66 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

storm howled around their vessel, AHce Howard had 
thought of this, and feared she was treading an unhal- 
lowed path. 

Yet there they were at last. Hardy men rejoiced 
that the journey was over, and saw even on this barren 
shore, a home ; and woman, too, hoping and trusting 
ever, looked forward even through the winter's gloom, 
for the coming spring. 

The cold blast thrilled through and through the 
frame of Alice, as she clung to the side of her hus- 
band, and she thought of the green fields and hedges 
of merry England. She said nothing, however, to 
discourage Albert, but looked as unnerved as the hard- 
iest matron among them. 

How needless to speak of the hardships of that 
winter. Strong must have been the love and the faith 
which supported them through it all. Yet they were 
supported. Love and faith both found strength at the 
throne of grace. The prayers of the Puritans and 
their long exhortations rose on the wintry air, and the 
voices of Albert Howard and his wife read the prayers 
of the Church of England, and each received strength 
and courage through their different modes of worship ; 
and the Puritans loved the members of what they 
styled the " Church full of abominations," and all the 
children of the colony loved them, so surely do gen- 
tleness and love win alike the hearts of the sternest 
and frailest of human creatures. 

But it was a hard, long winter, and Alice rejoiced 



LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 67 

like a very child when she heard the first spring bird, 
and found the first purple violet. Then the warm 
days came, and AKce went out with the rest of the 
women into the fields. Their houses, as may well be 
imagined, were rude affairs, and called not for much 
labor in their arrangements, and offered but few attrac- 
tions for indoor life ,- so when the weather was mild, it 
was a luxury to be out of doors. 

But Alice's labor was merely nominal, perhaps to see 
that the children did not stray aAvay, or some needle- 
work which she could do beneath the shade of some 
far-spreading tree. And often cHd she sit A\ith all the 
younger members of the colony about her, telling 
them simple stories and learning them pretty plays. 

But her heart was often sad and heavy, and she 
sometimes sighed for home ; — not but that she loved 
the people of the colony, but O, she longed for her 
mother ! At night her mother's voice haunted her and 
waked her from unquiet slumbers. The thought grew 
more bitter to her every day, that she had left without 
her blessing. Her mother, gentle and self-sacrificing, 
she kncAV would forgive her disobedience ; but her 
father, stern and most unyielding of men, of whom she 
and her mother had both stood in the greatest awe, 
when she thought of him it was ^nth. fear and trem- 
bling. She knew he would never forgive her, though 
she was liis only daughter. 

Albert v/as kind and affectionate, but he took not the 
mother's place ; he must be away with the colonists 



68 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

hunting or fishing; and she feared, too, with the 
timidity of a woman who always fears most for what 
she loves most, that he might suffer harm from some 
of the wild tribes who roamed the forests. True they 
had always seemed friendly, but still she could never 
look upon theh dusky figures without a sort of shud- 
der. 

Ere the summer was passed, a little babe was laid in 
the arms of Alice, and as she looked upon the helpless 
creature she thought how her own mother would have 
loved and cherished it, and how bitter was the thought 
that came to her, that that Httle helpless thing might 
grow up to womanhood and then leave her to sorrow 
and uncertainty, even as she herseh' had done. 

Alice was well cared for in her rude home. Kind 
hands smoothed her pillow and nursed her httle in- 
fant, and kind hearts encouraged her when she was 
lonely and sad. 

And the Httle one grew and flourished. Handsome 
and healthy, the delight of the whole colony. Sure 
never baby had so many good fathers and good moth- 
ers ; and the father vv'as proud and haj^py to see how 
all loved his child and his gentle wife. 

And Alice, too, grew strong and well again; the 
baby seemed such a comfort to her, and she smiled 
again as she had not smiled for months. 

And then came the Autumn, the time of harvesting. 
The women must assist the men in their labors, and 
consequently AHce was left much alone ; but she cared 



LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 69 

not. Now her baby took up her whole care and at- 
tention. 

One day she had just hushed it to sleep, laid it up 
in the bed, and was sitting weary beside it, when the 
latch was lifted and an Indian woman entered. Though 
AKce was afraid of the men, she felt no fear of the 
women, and the one that now entered had a soft and 
wiiming countenance, and withal a sad look that went 
to her heart, so she bade her be seated. She did so, 
looking all the while at the baby with eager, watchful 
eyes. Alice was pleased, as young mothers will be, to 
see their children noticed. She made motions to the 
woman as asking her how many childi-en she had. 

The woman sat for a moment rockmg her body to 
and fro, then she held up one finger of her right 
hand ; then made a motion as if laying a child in the 
gromid, then folded her arms upon her breast and 
rocked her body to and fro as before, giving AHce to 
understand that her child was dead. 

AHce felt for her. She knew that the Indian wo- 
man had loved her baby, even as she loved her own 
sweet cherub. As if to assure her of sympathy, she 
took her hands within her own and pressed them to 
her heart, while the tears stood in her eyes. 

The woman still lingered, and AHce tliinking that 
she might be hungry, made signs to that effect. The 
woman bowed her head. 

Alice rose and left the room. She was not gone 
five minutes ; but when she returned, to her great hor- 



70 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

ror her child was gone — no trace of him, or of the 
woman! Gone — stolen! As the full force of the 
truth rushed upon her she staggered and came near 
falling. Then she rushed to the door. She strained 
her eyes in every du'ection. No sign of child or wo- 
man. Half frantic, she called, she shouted, and the 
echo of her own voice mocked her agony. 

" My child, my darHng boy. O, God, has he been 
stolen from me. Fiend in woman's shape, where are 
you ? " With the fleetness of a deer she started as in 
pursuit; but whither should she direct her steps? 
Not far from her house stood the forest ; once in its 
depths and familiar with its recesses, the Indian woman 
might defy her pursuers. Alice ran as far as the wood, 
then suddenly stopped. Alone, her task was hope- 
less; she should lose herself and fail to find her child. 
She turned her steps to the field where she knew 
some women, together with her husband and some 
other male members of the colony were at work. She 
almost flew over the ground, and yet it seemed as if 
she should never reach them, and every minute her 
child was going farther from her. The field was full 
half a mile fr-om the house, and in an opposite direc- 
tion to the wood. 

They saw her coming, and crowded around her. 
« What is the matter, AHce ?" 

" My child is gone," said she. " They have robbed 
me of my child. Quick, for the love of God ! " 

There was no tear in her eyes as she said this — they 



LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 71 

were glazed and bright. Her hair was falHng loose 
over her shoulders, and streaming in the wmd, and it 
was no wonder that at first sight they thought her de~ 
ranged. A moment's jDause, in wliich they stood look- 
ing at one another. Alice was in agony. 

" Will no one start to help me ? " she almost 
shrieked. 

" AUce," said her husband, taldng her hands, " my 
poor Alice, what is it you say ? " 

" Say, Albert," said she, and she forced herself to be 
calm, and her words carried conviction with them — 
" say that our child is gone, is stolen ! An Indian 
woman came into the house, I left her but a moment, 
and when I came back she was gone, and my baby, 
too ; and yet I Kve to tell it you." 

It was enough. Not a foot but now was ready to 
start at her bidding, not a heart but was ready for her 
service. Strong, hardy men came forward. 

" Go hom.e, Alice," said they, we will find your child." 

" Home ! " said the poor creature ; " the mother 
whose child is gone has no home. ISIother," cried she, 
turning her glazed eyes to heaven, " thou art avenged." 

Only one there knew the deep meanmg of her 
words, and a pang bitter as death smote through his 
heart. " AKce, my own Alice, do not despair, we will 
find him yet." 

They scoured the forest far and near. They went in 
different parties, and in different directions, and at 
nightfall they came in to make their report ; but the 
lost was not found. 



72 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

Last of all came the party who had gone to the 
Indian camp, and with them, the poor heart-stricken 
mother. No power on earth could have kept her at 
home, so she had followed them to the camp. She 
felt no fatigue ; all feeling was lost in that one dread- 
jiul thought, that her child was gone ! 

But the Indians could give them no information. 
None of their tribe were missing; and the chief, at 
their request, made all the women of the tribe to pass 
before them while the mother stood with her breath 
suspended and her quick, eager eye scanning every 
dusky face as it passed before her. But she was not 
there. Hope grew faint ^vithin the mother's heart. 
She tm-ned away in despair. 

On the way back her step grew feeble, for the hope 
that had supported her was gone. The north wind 
blew cold and chill, the black clouds came up and flew 
wildly across the heavens. Strong arms supported 
Alice or she would have fallen. At last they were 
obliged to make a rough litter of the dead hmbs of 
trees, on which the men spread their coats, taking them 
from their shoulders, and so they bore her on. But 
still no tears had fallen. Her hands were hot, her 
eyes wide open, as if she could not shut them, and ever 
and anon she mourned — " My child, my child ! " 

She took no notice of any one, not even of her hus- 
band, who, in his intense anxiety for her and sjmpathy 
for her anguish, almost forgot his child, or wished its 
retm'n but to allay her overpowering grief. 



LANDING OF TIIE PILGRIMS. 73 

Ere they reached home, a blinding sleet began to fall 
and blew full in their faces. Everything promised a 
f lu-ious night. 'Twas a sad procession ; and when the 
different parties met, no questions were asked, for the 
eyes alone could tell the sad tale. 

It was early in the season for such a hard storm as 
raged that night ; yet some of the strongest and 
bravest ventured forth to the search, although it seemed 
a hopeless undertaking. 

Who can tell the mother's agony through that long 
night — that night of storm and tempest. Where 
was the babe that should have nestled in her bosom. 
Her arms v/ere empty, her brain was on fire ; O, what 
would become of her ? She could not pray. Would 
God hear her prayer for her lost child ? — had she not 
inflicted the same torture upon the mother that bore 
her ? Through that long night those wide oj^en eyes 
never closed. She had Avatchers around her whose 
hearts bled for her, but she noticed them not. Still 
and ever that miceasing moan, that putting forth of 
those empty arms, and that unceasing cry, " My child, 
my child ! " 

The morning came, the party returned, but no tracer 
of her child. Alice asked no questions ; she knew if 
he was found she should know it. The day passed by 
and still they searched, another night and they gave 
him not up, and now the third day and Alice lay pale, 
and weary, and faint upon her bed ; but a change had 
come over her. She spoke gently and affectionately to 



74 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

the kind friends about her, thanldng them for their 
care. She held her husband's hand within her own 
and looked up kindly and affectionately into his face. 
But she had not mentioned her babe. She could not 
yet brmg herself to speak of liim. 

On the afternoon of that day, Albert sat by the bed- 
side of his wife. She had just been asleep and he had 
been watching her. Pale as a corpse she lay before 
him, and the dread thought had come upon his heart 
that she might die. 

Alice opened her eyes. Albert was sitting with his 
back to the door. As she was lying, no one could enter 
without her seeing them. 

" How do you feel, Alice ? " said he, as she woke. 
Something caught her eye ; her whole countenance 
changed ; she pressed his hands hard in her gi'asp. 
Silently the door had opened, stealthily a figure passed 
into the room — a figm'e beaiing a child, a sleeping 
child. AHce could bear it no longer. She st?irted up- 
right in her bed. She shouted aloud, " Woman, give 
me my child, my baby." 

The figure advanced towards her. Yes, it was the 
same, the same sad melancholy face. Carefully, even 
as a mother, she bore the sleeping child — bore it even 
to the bedside, laid it in the mother's arms, and then 
folded her arms over her heart, and stood there still 
and silent. 

AKce held her lost baby in her embrace once more. 
She feasted her eyes upon him, and one by one the big 



LAI^DING OF THE PILGRIMS. 7S 

roiind tears came coursing down her cHleks, falling 
like a summer's shower uj^on her baby's face. He 
opened his eyes ; he knew his mother ; stretched out 
his little arms to her and smiled. She pressed liim to 
her heart ; she smothered him with kisses ; she laughed 
alou^ ; she cried, then held him towards his father and 
fell back exhausted on the pillow, saying, " God, I thank 
thee." 

All this time the Lidian woman stood there ; and as 
she watched the joy of the mother, a satisfied smile 
broke over her dark, sad features. 

The father held his child in his arms and thanked 
God. 

Then Alice started up again ; she reached forward to 
the woman ; she took her hands in hers, and said, in 
thrilHng tones which would convey their meaning to 
the heart, though the words might not be miderstood, 

" Woman, why did you take away my child ? Did 
you not know that I should die, if he was taken from 
me?" 

The woman held out her empty arms, pomted to the 
ground, then pressed her hands to her heart, then she 
broke forth in a low, funeral chant, painful to hear. 
Then she spoke in her native language, her sweet, mu- 
sical tones, pointing first to the babe, then to the for- 
est ; the import of her words and gestm*es seemed to 
be that she thought the wliite woman's child might 
take the place of her own lost darling. The whole of 
her story, gathered from her broken EngHsh and sig- 



7(8 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

nificant ges'tures, was, that she had been tempted to 
take the child to satisfy the yearning of her heart ; she 
had borne him to her home, but when there she be- 
thought herself of the mother's anguish, and she judged 
the white woman's heart by her own, and her heart for- 
bade her doing such a great "vvTong, so she had brought 
him back, well and healthy,* as when she had taken him 
away ; and this was the story. 

Night came, and the news spread through the set- 
tlement that the lost was found, and there was great 
rejoicing. 

Still the Indian woman lingered, and strange to say, 
Alice felt no fear of her, she seemed to miderstand the 
poor bereaved heart. She at last made her comprehend 
that if she wished, she might stay and live with the 
whites. Her dark eyes brightened ; this was evidently 
what she wished ; she should be near the child of her 
adoption, she might, with the mother, share the care of 
him without blame. So the dark woman stayed, and 
Alice was happy once more. 

Years passed, and the colony grew and prospered, 
and communications "v\ith England became more and 
more frequent. Albert Howard was now a teacher, 
and was loved and respected by all. The Indian 
woman still Hved in the family — still watched over the 
welfare of the cliild she loved, though he was now a 
great, hardy lad of some seven or eight summers. 
There were other claimants for the white mother's love, 
but the Indian mother still loved the child of her 



lANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 67 

adoption with a perfect and all-absorbing affection. 
A vessel from England, — and many hearts in the 
colony leaped with joy to hear the intelHgence, eager 
for news from dear and distant friends. 

AHce was always sad when she heard of these ar- 
rivals fbr she knew they bore no good tidings for her. 

With this vessel it was said there were many who in- 
tended to settle among them, but this was naught to 
her. 

A middle aged woman and a young man who came 
passengers in the vessel, entered the village and in- 
quired for the house of Albert Howard. One of the 
inhabitants offered to go with him to the door. Al- 
though a man, his curiosity was strong, and wishing to 
know who the strangers were, he entered with them. 
AHce turned around as the door opened ; one look at 
the face of the woman and she rushed into her arms 
with a wild cry of joy. It was her mother. The moth- 
er she had forsaken, and whose image had haunted her 
for so many years. She looked up into her face, her 
dearly loved face ; she smoothed down her hair now be- 
ginning to be streaked with white, she kissed the Hps 
which had never ceased to pray for her, and said, " My 
mother, will you, have you forgiven me ? " 

She brought her children to her and asked her to 
bless them ; never but once before had she been so wild 
with joy. 

" And have you no word for me, AHce ? " said a man- 
ly voice beside her. She had not noticed him as he 
6 



78 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

entered. Could it be it was the brother she had left a 
mere striphng ? It was so ; and she threw her arms 
around his neck, telling him how glad she was to see 
him. 

And now Alice noticed that her mother was dressed 
in a widow's garb. She had not dared to inquire for 
her father, but her mother read her anxious look and 
answered it. 

" My dear Alice, your father has left us for a better 
world." 

AHce hid her face in her hands and wept bitter tears. 
She thought how she had disobeyed him, and perhaps 
embittered his last days. She sobbed bitterly. 

" And he did not bless me ? Say, mother, that he 
did not curse me." 

" He forgave you, Alice. He said he had been too 
severe, and charged me to bear you his forgiveness." 

" And you will stay with me, my mother. You kno"W 
not what a weight your presence takes from my heart j 
and Albert will be so rejoiced to see you ; you mil love 
him for my sake, mother ; he is a kind, good husband. 
You will never leave me, my mother, and we will be so 
happy." And she kissed her again and again. " But 
how did you know we were here ? " 

" I heard of it indirectly but a short time before your 
father's death, and after that, having no ties to bind us 
to England, I thought I would seek out my disobedient 
daughter, and see if she still loved me." 

" Better than Hfe, my own mother, — and now we 
will be so happy." 



PRIESTCRAFT. 



BT HON. ANSON BVRLINQAXf. 



"When Romanism issued forth from the Eternal 
City, from beneath the broken altars and the falling 
gods of Pantheism, it commended itself to the people. 
Its system was simple, consisting of a Bishop and a few 
assistants. But soon the Bishop of Rome dominated 
over the other bishops of the Roman Empire, and ere 
long claimed that the See of Rome was established by 
St. Peter himself, and that he was his successor. Deep 
down in this lie, the foundations of Papacy were laid. 
Fifteen hundred years ago the Bishop of Rome claimed 
to be the head of the Church, and assumed the name 
of Pope. A thousand years ago, temporal was added 
to his spiritual power. Then followed in quick suc- 
cession the adoption of those doctrines one would sup- 
pose abhorent to reason, the doctrines of Purgatory 
and Transubstantiation. And so it went on, giving the 
dark hue of its own spirit to long ages, till it became 
the most stupendous oppression known to man. Prot- 
estantism fell upon it like a thunderbolt, but it did not 

* Extract from an Oration delivered in Salem, Mass., July 4, 
1854. 



80 PRIESTCRAFT. 

subdue it ; and the great war so nobly commenced by 
WicklifF and Huss and Luther and Calvin, still goes on. 
It is true that Zisca does riot now pierce the papacy 
with his sword. The great Cromwell does not trample 
it down under his feet, and our fathers do not rush 
through a gap in the Alleghanies, Washington at 
their head, to sweep it from the valley of the Mis- 
sissippi ; — but still the great war of ideas goes on. 

The Church assumes a milder aspect, and speaks no 
longer of the fagot and the flame, of the rack and tor- 
ture. It would fain forget the Inquisition, the war upon 
the Waldenses, Bartholomew, and the fires of Smith- 
field. It speaks sweetly of Massilon, and Fenelon and 
Chrysostom, " the golden mouthed. ^^ It charms the ear 
with the divinest music ; it delights the eye with the 
finest creations of genius ; it excites the imagination by 
the splendor of its ceremonies, takes captive the senses, 
and almost overcomes the reason. Is it strange, then, 
when we consider its age, its power, its pretension, that 
the ignorant should behold in its mighty and myste- 
rious movements the hand of Divinity itself ? No ! it 
is not subdued. It sways the soul of two-thirds of 
Christendom at this day ; it counts its devotees by 
hundreds of millions ; its convent bells are ringing in 
all lands ; the spires of its cathedrals pierce every sky j 
its hardy missionaries penetrate every continent and 
seek all the isles of the sea. It has let loose again 
that terrible oider of Jesuits, who, actuig upon the in- 
famous maxin that the end justifies the means, lure 



PEIESTCIIAFT. 81 

governments and men to ruin. It trains its priesthood 
to still stricter celibacy, that they may not lose the lust 
of poAA'er in the love of home. It may not call the 
German king from his forests and force him to stand 
three days at the Vatican with bare head and feet, ex- 
posed to the winds of mnter. No ! it invokes the aid 
of emperors, and obtains it; it makes statesmen its 
puppets, and miserable republican politicians its scav- 
engers. Not him of old who sowed the pestilence so 
wronged humanity. 

See the bright lands it has blighted ! and when these 
are placed in contrast with those Protestantism has 
blessed, the disciples of the Church say, " We admit 
the material prosperity, but it is better for men that 
they remain ignorant, so they seek Heaven through 
the gates of the Church." It works openly, works se- 
cretly, with the pen, with the sword. Yes, with the 
sword ! The great Avar in Eiu-ope, now raging, had 
its origin in the machinations of the Church. Did it 
not place Louis Napoleon on the throne of France ? 
Did it not demand that it might settle the Eastern 
question — the guardianship of the Holy Places of 
Palestine ? K the Latin Church could make demands, 
why not the schismatic Greek Chm-ch ? of which the 
Czar is the head. I cannot pursue this great question ; 
but you will find in this distant cause the origin of the 
terrible war that is now taking place in Europe. And 
we find Protestant England — after eating what in- 
sane root I cannot imagine — in the first place in al- 



82 PRIESTCRAFT. 

liance with the most warlike Catholic country, and 
about entering into alliance with the second most war- 
like coimtry, with the implied understanding that the 
Pope shall still continue in his seat, and the young Em- 
peror of Austria, liis lips purple with perjury, still hold 
his feet on the neck of poor Hungary. Well may the 
people of England inquire, " For -what do we fight ? " 
I honor the people of England for forcing that govern- 
ment into the war. It was the conscience of England, 
— for they supposed they were to fight for the weak 
against the strong, for tjie integrity of nations ; but 
they did not comprehend the depth of European dip- 
lomacy. I cannot enter fm'ther into this question ; I 
will only utter this prophecy, that the legions which are 
now moving toward the sun, and along the paths of the 
old crusaders will return, and as sure as Waterloo is 
remembered, they vdll pom- themselves lil^e a torrent 
upon Protestant England. She, I know, when roused, 
can hurl them back, for Protestantism when roused is 
invincible. 

It is with the machinations of the Church in our dear 
native land that I have to do, for it is here that the 
great battle between true democracy and despotism is 
to be fought. We stand all alone in our institutions. 
Kingcraft and Priestcraft are in alliance by the instinct 
of self preservation, — for if the dear banner we love 
shall continue to dance in the sky, every mitre and 
crown will sooner or later roll in the dust. Feeling 
that they cannot overcome us by arms, they seek to do 



PRIESTCR.\FT. 83 

it by duplicity. Hence they send hither their well- 
trained priesthood, tlieir Jesuits, ( Kossuth found eight 
fresh from Austria, away in what they call the province 
of Missouri,) their Bedini — that bloody butcher of Bo- 
logna, to organize despotism here. They cannot trust 
the native born priesthood with the delicate interests of 
the Church. Their devotees are coming as the waves 
come, enough to make fom* States every year. They 
give their lip service to our institutions, but their hearts 
are away on the Tiber. Through the complicity of 
demagogues, and by a violation of the naturalization 
laws, they enter at once as a disturbing element into 
our politics. This religious power has been wielded as 
a balance so skilfully, that long since men of all parties 
were found in submission to it ; and now it is no longer 
a merit in a man that he was born on these brown hills, 
or that his fathers bathed the battle fields of the land 
with their blood. No, it is a demerit rather ; and it is 
better for him if he can show that, at some time or 
other, he exhibited greater servility to this power than 
his opponent. 

It was not urged as a merit in General Scott, that 
when in Mexico he acted the part of a kind Christian 
chieftain, as he is. No ! but it was a merit that he 
lowered the ensign of the Republic to the CathoHc 
ceremonies ; because he said that the Irishmen were 
the bravest, or among the bravest in the army. And 
was it not, on the other hand, used against him with 
great success, that he hung up a company of these men, 



84 PRIESTCRAFT. 

the only traitors to the American flag in Mexico. You 
remember how he fell suddenly in love with the " rich 
Irish brogue." Ah! there was his mistake. Priest- 
craft would not have you fall in love with the warm- 
hearted Irishmen; it would have you trample them 
down and keejD them in ignorance, so that it may wield 
them as instruments of power. As evidence of this, 
see how priestcraft persecutes the young and eloquent 
Irishman Meagher, who tries to Hft the j)eople from the 
degradation into which priestcraft has thrown them. 
It was a mistake m General Scott to be so warm-hearted. 
His opponent — I am not blaming one more than the 
other, they were playing for the stake alike — was 
wiser ; for if report be true, he W'ent to the source of 
power ; at any rate he got the vote ; and now you have 
a Jesuit for your Postmaster General. 

I say the two parties alike are at the footstool of this 
power. Men launch their sarcasms, even from the 
United States Senate, at the priesthood of other denom- 
inations, at those noble men, the clergjTiien of New 
England who signed the petition against the Nebraska 
Bill — but did you ever hear of anybody's lamiching a 
sarcasm against the Catholic clergjinen ? Is it not 
boasted, that no Catholic priest signed the protest 
against the Nebraska Bill? and where is your press 
that dare attack that priesthood for its devotion to 
slavery ? Look at the CathoHc press — ably con- 
ducted, with an exchisive circulation in a certain 
quarter, a powerful advocate for absolutism, it poi- 



PRIESTCRAFT. 8S 

sons the minds of the people where it extends. But 
where is your Protestant press to reply to these able 
papers ? I blame not these Catholic journals ; their 
editors are devoted to the Chm-ch, true to its funda- 
mental doctrinq^ which requhe blind obedience to au- 
thority, declare the infalHbility of the Church, and de- 
ny the right of private judgment. Where these views 
are reaHzed, where this kind of despotism is established, 
freedom is in its deepest gi*ave. They try to realize 
these doctrines. Do you love religious Hberty — they 
declare there is no such thing. " Protestantism has no 
rights m the presence of Catholicity," says the Catholic 
Review. "Religious Hberty is only endured till the 
opposite can be established with safety to the Catholic 
world," says Bishop O'Connor, of Pittsbm-g. " America 
will soon be Catholic, and then religious liberty will 
cease to exist," says the Bishop of St. Louis. Prot- 
estantism is a crime in Catholic countries, and is pun- 
ishable as a crime, says another ; as evidence of this, 
see the punishment of the Madaii family in Tuscany. 
" I will watch," says the Bishop of Paris, " the religious 
press of France, and if necessary I will use my jDower 
to repress it." That press has found an early grave. - 
But that I may not wrong these people, I will go to 
the fountain of authority, and read a passage from a re^ 
cent letter written by the Pope himself to the people 
of NcAV Grenada, who had the audacity to cast off theii- 
yoke of oppression, and to adopt a constitution almast 
identical with our own. Here is what he says of it : 



86 PRIESTCRAFT. 

" Neither must we pass over in silence, that, by the 
new constitution of that republic, enacted in these re- 
cent times, among other things the right of free educa- 
tion is defended, and Hberty of all kinds is given unto 
all, so that each person may even print and publish his 
thoughts and all kinds of monstrous portents of opin- 
ions, and profess privately and publicly whatever wor- 
ship he pleases. 

You assuredly see. Venerable Brothers, how horrible 
.and sacrilegious a war is proclaimed against the Cath- 
olic Church by the rulers of the Republic of New Gre- 
nada, and what and how great injuries have been in- 
flicted on the said Church and its sacred rights, Pastors 
and Ministers, and our supreme authority and that of 
the Holy See." 

Furthermore, in the same letter, on the subject of 
marriage he writes : 

" Marriage caimot be given without tliere being at 
one and the same time a sacrament, and consequently 
any other union whatever of man and woman among 
Christians, made in virtue of what civil law soever, is 
nothmg else but a shameful and miserable concubinage, 
so often condemned by the Church." 

Husbands and ^\ives of New England, what say you 
to that ? Do you wish other evidence ? you can find 
it. You know our fathers destroyed all connection with 
Feudalism ; they abolished the right of primogeniture, 
discouraged entail and long trust. Now, it is the doc- 
trine of the Church that the property of the' Church 
shall remain in the hands of the priesthood. That 
doctrine is enforced on the Catholic conscience in this 
Hepublic, and finding some, especially the German 
Catholics, not ready to yield to it, by their influence in 



PRIESTCRAFT. 87 

Louisiana and Pennsylvania, I believe, they have se- 
cured, against the poKcy of our government, decisions 
of the Courts placing the whole property of the Church 
in the hands of the priesthood — so they may wield its 
millions when and how they Avill. 

Our fathers established a system of free schools that 
were non-sectarian. When Bishop Hughes returned 
from Rome, in 1841, he commenced that war upon our 
free schools which now rages all over the land. It is 
the doctrine of the Church that the Stete has no right 
to educate ; it is the exclusive duty of the Church, 
But feeling that they had not the power to get posses- 
sion of our schools entire, they sought to divide the 
school money ; faiHng, they sought to put out the Bi- 
ble ; and, faihng in this, they blotted its pages, expur- 
gated it, along with other books which said anything 
about the papacy ; and after they thought they were 
strong enough to advance to the polls with this object 
in view, they did so ; but the people, without distinction 
of party, mcluduig the Protestant foreigners, beat them 
like a threshing floor. 

In this State at the last election — I have no opin- 
ion to offer here of the new Constitution — there was 
an element in our State ten thousand strong it is said, 
and because it did not lilie a particular article in that 
Constitution wliich declared there should be no secta- 
rian schools in Massachusetts, they moved in a mass 
secretly — and so secretly that none except a few lead- 
ing politicians at the head of parties knew about it — 



88 PRIESTCRAFT. 

and that article went down with the whole Constitution. 
I complain not that this defeated the Constitution, but 
I do point out as a dangerous element, that which 
cares not a fig whether the Constitution be good or 
bad, but miless it suits its own peculiar aims will strike 
ever)1;hing good and bad down together. 

And here let me mention, in passing, that fearing 
that great storm, the rumblings of whose thunders 
are begimiing to be heard, a change in their tactics 
within a few weeks is perceptible. In the last number 
of Brownson's Quarterly for this month, you will 
find the ablest Native American article ever written 
in the United States, I think. When you read it, you 
will see as you go on and come nearly to the end, that 
the writer is careful, wliile he comes down upon the 
foreigners most brutally, to save the Catholic portion of 
them from his blows ; and that his poisoned arrows are 
aimed at the Protestant foreigners, and especially at 
the Hberty-loving Germans. But more : there is a 
deeper purpose in it still. Fearing that the church 
and all may come down together before the hurricane 
of opinion, he would save the church — " Oh, spare 
the church and do what you will with the foreigners ! " 
he says in spirit. This is cowardly and Jesuitical. 
To show that this is done by combination and imder- 
standing, look m the Boston Pilot, the ablest Catholic 
journal in the country, and certainly having the largest 
circulation. You will there find that it says, in sub- 
stance, that inasmuch as nearly all of the Irish Catho- 



PRIESTCRAFT. 89 

lies have now come, and as the Germans are coming 
about three to their one, and as these are not all Catho- 
lics, would it not be well to change our naturaHzation 
laws. Is not that cool ? After having got into our 
house, they projjose to shut the door in the faces of 
our other invited guests. Had we not better consider 
among ourselves and settle this question of what we 
shall do with our own ? 

You ask what remedy I have to propose ? Simply, 
in the first place, kindness, not persecution. This is 
the asylum of the oppressed ; and let it be the asylum 
of the oppressed. Say to these people — We will 
educate your children in our free schools, toil together 
and struggle side by side for the greatness and the 
glory of the Republic. Enjoy whatsoever religion you 
will ; preach in your cathedrals when you will, or be- 
neath the blue dome of heaven — and you shall have 
every drop of American blood to protect you in your 
religious liberty ; but when you combine for despotism, 
we will combine for Hberty ! When you propose to 
exclude the Bibles our mothers gave us from the free 
schools our dear fathers established, when you find 
an ally in every despot, when you league with all op- 
pression — we, without depriving you of a single riffht, 
simply propose to vote you down ! 

We mean to encourage and cultivate among our- 
selves an intense nationality. We mean, as it is the 
dominant element, that the Anglo-Saxon element shall 
bear superior sway. We mean to stand by our good 



90 PRIESTCEAFT. 

old mother tongue against the world, becauvse it is the 
language of liberty all over the world. We mean, as 
it is our right, our constitutional right, and as it is our 
duty, to bear arms, so that we can, when our EeiDublic 
is assailed, defend it, for it has so turned out in human 
afiairs that a country that cannot defend its Kberty, has 
not retained it long. We mean to act in the spirit of 
that patriotism which governed our fathers, when they 
placed in the Constitution of the United States the 
provision that no man, save a native born citizen of this 
Republic, should be President of these United States. 
Fellow-Citizens, I have spoken of these disturbing 
elements in our politics, — Slavery and Priestcraft. 
They have a common purpose : they seek Cuba and 
Hayti and the Mexican States together, because they 
will be Catholic and Slave. I say they are in alliance 
by the necessity of their nature, — for one denies the 
right of a man to his body, and the other the right of a 
man to liis soul. The one denies his right to think 
for himself, the other the right to act for himself. One, 
assuming the livery of Democracy, steals men, and 
sells men, and buys men it M'ould not jmy to steal, — 
men beneath the slave, inasmuch as he never stooped 
to the degradation of selling himself. The other as- 
sumes the livery of Heaven, not to traffic in the bodies 
of men so much as in their souls : — for so much it 
will abro've, for so much pass you over that hard road 
to tiav'l — Purgatory. Fortunately, men are not as 
bad as their systems. There is something deep down 



PRIESTCR.\FT. 91 

in the soul of every man, be he Catholic or Prot- 
estant, which rebels eternally against absolute author- 
ity, — and that, when you find it, is Protestanism, in 
whatever breast. 

You ask me, will our Republic be subdued by these 
despotic elements ? I tell you, no ! no ! I gather 
hope to the contrary from this roused spirit of the 
people, rising lilce the voice of many waters ; there 
is no danger, because the people are awake. There 
is danger only when the people sleep and from a 
secret enemy. Liberty loves the storm : when the 
winds blow and the waves rise, then she is safe. Me- 
thinks I see, moving upon the face of the troubled 
waters, the spirit of Divinity as of old ! Methinks I 
hear above the roar of the tempest its glad voice, say- 
ing, "Be of good cheer ! It is I ! It is I ! Be not 
afraid!" 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 



BY JUNfUS AMSRICU8. 



That Catholicism, as a religious system, is inimical 
to civil and spiritual liberty, its history, for many cen- 
turies, incontestibly proves ; and the Reformation, in 
the sixteenth century, was the result of the protest of 
the conscience of Europe against the usurpations of 
that mighty fabric of ecclesiastical tpanny. In differ- 
ent countries, the progress of the Reformation was 
guided by different motives. On the continent, for the 
most part, the people were the active friends of reform. 
In England, the government was the first to lend its 
countenance to the work. The Church of England, 
however, incorporating its ecclesiastical with the civil 
poUcy of the realm, departed less widely from the 
principles and jiractices of Rome, than the Church of 
Geneva, Retaining many of the forms which usage 
had sanctioned, and which, by then* appeals to the 
senses were considered peculiarly favorable to devotion , 
even to this day the EstabUshed Church approaches 
nearer to that of Rome than the churches of Ger- 



_ THE AMEF.ICAN IDEA. 93 

many ; and it was an early complaint against the former, 
that it hid stopped too soon in the work of divesting 
itself of popish corruptions: and hence the origin of 
Puritanism and Separatism in England. The Puri- 
tans were those who demanded a purer worship than 
was found in the Established Church; the Separatists 
"went farther, and openly renounced the communion of 
that Church. The Separatists were the founders of 
the Colony at Plymout'i : the Puritans were the found- 
ers of the Massachusetts Colony. The history of the per- 
secutions waged against both these Sects, in the reigns of 
Elizab3th, James I., and Charles I., is a dark spot in 
the annals of England. Yet we are indebted to that 
persecution for the settlement of this country. Had 
not full conformity been required, and had liborty of 
conscience been allowed, both the Puritans and the 
Separatists, would probably have remained in the land of 
their birth, and have labored there for the spread of their 
views. But as conformity was required, and as liberty 
was not allowed, these Sects determined to enjoy what 
they regarded as their inalienable right, resolved to 
remove from the homes of their infancy, and to take 
up their abode on this side the Atlantic. That Provi- 
dence directed this removal, and designed it as the in- 
strument for peopling this wilderness with a race dif- 
ferent from the Aborigines, and working out here higher 
problems of spiritual interest, we, as decendants of the 
Pilgrims, devoutly believe : and the history of our 
country, we think, abundantly warrants that belief. 
7 



94 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

This brings us to notice, therefore, the American Ideat 
or the riihng motive wliich governed our ancestors in 
forsaking their native land, and settling in the New 
World. 

Massachusetts was ssttled by a race of men who 
took the position that the word of God should be their 
creed and their guide. They repudiated the Church 
of Rome as corrupt and anti-christian ; and even the 
Chm-ch of England was regarded as tolerating and 
retaining many corrupt usages. The Connecticut colo- 
nies were offchoots from Mas^chusetts, and were 
founded by men of similar principles. Rhode Island 
was like^vise settled by men who had formerly resided 
in Massachusetts ; as was also New Hampshire, in part. 
Maine, afterwards a district of Massachusetts, was a 
distinct colony, founded cliiefly for commercial pvu:- 
poses, and for the profits of the fisheries conducted at 
the Banks. Farther south, New York was settled by 
the Dutch, who were Protestants; and was founded 
for commercial purposes: Delaware and New Jersey 
were settled by Swedes ; and Vh'ginia by Protestants 
and Englishmen, though by members of the National 
Church, rather than by Pmilans. ^Maryland was the 
only colony avowedly settled by Catholics ; the others, 
which formed the Confederacy of 1766, were of a later 
date than those wliich have been na,med, or ware set- 
tled at a later period. It would not be difficult to 
show, that the causes which operated in the settlement 
of these colonies, have ever since more or less influ- 



THE AMERICAN IDLA. 95 

enced their destiny : and tliat the history of each can 
be best understood by considering its origin, and the 
motives by -which the first settlers were guided. Nor 
would it be difficult to show, that, among all the colo- 
nies, those of New England have always exerted a 
marked and decided influence upon the destinies of the 
whole. As rehgion is the highest human interest, that 
people who avowedly make it their guide, and hold it 
in the greatest and most enlightened reverence, wiH 
ever stand out pre-eminently in the world, and will be 
attended by a prosperity proportioned to their intelli- 
gence and virtue. Such has been the case in our land j 
and hence, although the cKmate of the Northern States 
is far more severe than of other parts, and the soil less 
fertile, the march of these States has been uniformly 
onward, nor have they at any time, or in any emer- 
gency, fallen beliind the others, or failed to do their 
part in carrying forward great enterprises to a success- 
ful issue. 

We take the position, that the prosperity wliich 
America has thus far attained, has been cliiefly through 
its Protestant principles; in the stimulus which 
thosi^ principles give to the intellect and in the afifec- 
tions; and to the spirit of /ree(/om, improvement and 
humanity, which has characterized its peojjle. That 
there are some dark s|)ots in our history, no one de- 
nies : but these spot?, it is believed, are as few, if not 
fewer, than can be found in the liistory of other coun- 
tries. And we also take the position, that this pros- 



96 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

perity could never have been attained under Catho- 
licism ; nor v/ould the nation hive reached its present 
state of grandeur, had it been settled solely by Catho- 
lics. 

If these positions be sacred, and if it be true, as was 
observed at the outset, that Catholicism, as a religious 
system, is inimical to civil and spiritual liberty, every 
true lover of his country must desire to see Protestant, 
rather than CathoKc principles prevail ; especially as 
wa are indebted to the former for all that has given our 
land its present dignity and standing in the world. 
Th2 two systems, — Protestantism and Catholicism, — 
are essentially opposite in their spirit and aims. The 
former asserts the right of every man to read for liim- 
self, think for himself, and judge for liimself, both in 
rehgious and in civil affairs : wliilst the latter denies 
this right, and requires obedience to the j)riesthoDd, or 
to the dictates of the Pope. The former admits diver- 
sity of opinions, and freedom in the enjoyment of those 
opinions : the latter demands that there shall be but 
one faith, and if men differ from that, it must be at ther 
expense of excommimication, and oftentimes severe 
temporal penalties. In America, where Pur'tinism 
prevails, and where it has prevailed ever since the set- 
tlement of the country, not cnly is Catholicism tole- 
rated, but Catholic churches are to b? found in all our 
principal cities, and in many of the larger to\Mis : 
whilst hi Italy, where CathoHcism prevails, and where 
it has prevailed for centuiies, Protestantism is not tol- 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. ' 97 

erated, nor are Prote.stmt churches allowed to be built, 
nor is public Avorship allowed under the forms of Prot- 
estantism. These are facts which, we presume, will 
not be questioned by any one. Hence, whilst Protes- 
tantism is in itself favorable to progress, and favorable 
to civil liberty, and to all the best interests of man, 
Catholicism is conservative, exclusive, and blighting in 
its influence upon all those interests. Compare North 
America, where Protestantism prevails, with South 
America, where Catholioism has ruled ; and even under 
th? most favorable aspects of the latter chme, how in- 
finitely preferable is the condition of the former ! Com- 
pare the Scotland of four centuries since, with the Scot- 
land of the present day. Even England has made its 
greatest strides in commercial prosperity, and intel- 
lectual eminence, since the overthrow of Catholicism 
in the land ; and in Germany, the same holds true : 
whilst the Catholic nations are either deteriorated, or 
occupy but a secondary posilicn in the social scale. 
These, and many other strilving facts might be noticed, 
showing the immense comparative advantages of Prot- 
estantism over CathoHcism. 

Under these circumstances, therefore, the question 
arlse=!, what shall be the future destiny of the land we 
live in ? — that land, hallowed in our remembrance by 
the toils of our forefathers, by their struggles for free- 
dom, and by their successful cultivation of intellectual 
and moral worth ? Shall the same principles which 
have hitherto guided us, continue to shed then' benefi- 



98 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

cent liglit upon our path ? Shall we go on, as in the 
past, outgrowing the ignorance of our youth, and more 
than atoning for it by the intelligence of our manhood ? 
Or shall that intelligence be checked ? Shall the 'cur- 
rent be tm-ned backward ? Shall the light be with- 
drawn ? Shall all that has been achieved be inglori- 
ously lost, and the nation sink supinely beneath the 
blandishments of its deadliest foe, under the fallacious 
plea, that to protect ourselves against the aggressions 
of Rome, is to persecute and to be bigoted ? 

The blessings which are ours, have been secured, only 
by jealous watclifulness, and earnest toil. Tpanny, in 
whatever quarter it has reared its head, has been 
frowned upon and resisted. And shall the tpaimy of 
Rome now be tolerated? ShaU that chui-ch which 
shows no mercy to Protestants when it has them in 
its power, and when it Imows it can safely exercise 
upon them its vengeance, — shall that chm-ch be per- 
mitted to go on, secretly undermining all our institu- 
tions? — inculcating doctrines at war with our best 
interests? — and putting in force the tremendous en- 
ginery which it knows so well how to wield, — and 
shall we sit still, and fold om* arms, and say. Oh ! the 
Catholics mean well! they are peaceable citizens! — 
they love liberty as well as we do ! — we have nothing 
to fear from them ! Would to God it w^re so ! Would 
to God there were nothing to fear ! But the history of 
th^ past few years teaches us that the struggle is lut 
just commenced !— that it is the determination of the 



TfiE AMERICAN IDEA. 99 

Catholics, if possible, to gain the supremacy in the 
land ; and when they do, farewell to Protestantism ! — 
&rewell to liberty ! — farewell to all we have hitherto 
cherished ! 

It may be said, perhaps, the Catholics have no such 
aim ; — they do not desire to gain the supremacy. 
Then it is evident that they are not sincere in their 
professions. K they believe their religion, they must 
desire its supremacy. To say, therefore, they do not 
aim to gain the ascendancy, is to say they have no faith 
in their church. Now, no one accuses the CathoHcs of 
a want of zeal for their cause. No one doubts, that, as 
a sect, they are more blind and headstrong in their 
zeal, than any other or all other sects combined. 

What, then, is our duty in tliis crisis, as Americans 
and as Protestants ? Is it to persecute the Catholics ? 
is it to rob them of their liberty ? is it to deny them 
their rights ? By no means : nor does any one advo- 
cate such a course. Our duty is, self -protection ; — to 
guard against the further encroachments and aggres- 
sions of this system, before it is too late ; before the 
power has departed out of our hands beyond the possi- 
bility of recall ; before we are bound hand and foot, 
and become the humble dependants of those whom we 
are willing to allow their own rights, but whom we are 
unwilling to permit to deprive us of ours. 

The issue of the present time is to solve the problem, 
how the vast influx of foreigners into our country, made 
up of so large a proportion of those unfriendly to 



100 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

Protestantism, and favorable only to Catholicism and 
its sjjread, — how this influx shall be so met, and so 
governed, as to prevent it from becoming the instru- 
ment of our destruction ? Not that we v^ish to debar 
om' CdthoHc citizens from the enjoyment of their re- 
ligion, so far as the same can be done without prejudice 
to o/.'?' views ; — not that we would deprive them of the 
benefits of our schools ; of the protection of our laws ; 
or of any of the advantages which are so freely and so 
widely diff'used throughout the land. But for their 
sakes, and for our own, we would so guard all these 
blessings, that they may not be lost to us through their 
mistaken and misguided zeal, or our own more crimi- 
nal supineness and doltishness. 

We wish, therefore, to see all who love Protestant- 
i§m ; — all who love America and' its institutions ; — 
all who value the blessings we now enjoy; join in a 
solemn league to perpetuate and continue these bless- 
ings, and to resist everything tending to deprive us of- 
them. K Catholicism or Protestantism shall prevail, 
which shall it be ? If Catholicism orlProtestantism ?hall 
sha;;e our destinies, which shall it be ? This is the ques- 
tion we must all seriously consider : and bearing in mind, 
that the American idea is liberty^ civil and religious : 
whilst the Catholic idea is submission to the church, 
and implicit obedience to all its behests, — an idea 
totally subversive of the former, and utterly antngo- 
nistical ; — we rmtsi male our choice, for it is impossi- 
ble that both systems shall prevail — one or the other 
must be in the ascendant. 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 101 

What we ask, then, is, that every American citizen, 
and every lover of the blessings of civil and religious 
liberty, shall join hands to guard these blessings, and 
preserve our land from the evils which must inevitably 
befall it, if we relax our vigilance, or slumber at our 
posts, or allow those who are ever watchful, to steal 
upon us unawares, and rivet upon soul and body, the 
chains of servitude, which can only be broken by a 
struggle far more desperate than that by which our 
political independence was achieved. 

The danger we apprehend, and against wliich we 
would guard, arises from the fact that Catholicism 
is, in every respect, essentially an unit. Its relio-ious 
and political creed are one and the same. Church and 
State, under its dominion, are indissolubly united. Now 
it has ever been our aim, as Protestants, to divorce 
Church and State, politically, and to leave each to its 
appropriate sphere. Hence the freedom of the people. 
No one form of faith rules over all others j no one sect 
exercises unKmited sway. There was a time, in our 
early annals, when Chm-ch and State were more closely 
united than now : and that union was made necessary 
in part, by the circumstances of the people, and the 
relations in which they stood to Episcopacy on the one 
hand, and to Catholicism on the other. But as the 
country became settled, and as danger from these 
sources ceased longer to threaten, the union of Church 
and State became less necessary, and gradually a di- 
vorce was effected, and every sect was left to itself, to 



102 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

fulfil its own mission in its oy>n -way : no one being 
disfranchised, or debarred from political preferments in 
consequence of his opinions, but all being alike eligible 
to office, talent being the chief qualification required 
for the incumbency. 

With the prevalence of Catholicism, and its rapid 
spread for the past twenty years, a new question has 
arisen, or rather an old question is revived, and we are 
required once more, aided by om* former experience, 
to defend our own rights, and to prevent their being 
lost to us by the ascendancy of Catholicism. To effect 
this, we counsel no violence, but recommend prudence ; 
we seek not to deprive any, who choose to come here, 
of the blessings we enjoy; but only to prevent them 
from robbing us of these blessings, and at the same 
time impoverish their own condition. 

That this is a necessary work, we firmly believe : nor 
can we believe otherwise, if we have faith in Protes- 
tantism, and in the efficacy of its principles to promote 
human prosperity. It is not to us a matter of indif- 
ference wJiat religion prevails. We wish Christianity 
to prevail, — Christianity as Christ taught it, and not 
as taught by the Pope, — Christianity as revealed in 
the Scriptures, and not as bound up in creeds. Nor 
can we fall into such indifference, or relax oiu- vigilance 
in guarding the trust which God has committed to us, 
\nthout suffering the consequences which will inevita- 
bly ensue. 

We have no desire to call in the arm of secular 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 103 

power to guard our faith j nor do we intend that 
others shall avail themselves of that arm to perpetuate 
their faith. Their freedom is not superior to ours, not 
of more consequence than ours; nor is it to be gained 
at the expense of ours. 

: Let, then, every American feel that he has a duty to 
perform — a duty as sacred as that which animated the 
patriots of the Revolution — and that is to preserve 
the liberties which their toils secured. And we can 
only do this under the Constitution ; by keeping the 
balance of power from jiassing from our hands ; — by 
watching as jealously our owti interests as others are 
watching theirs ; and then will the nation continue to 
advance to higher and still liigher degrees of improve- 
ment; our blessings will be multipKed; our hberties 
will be increased ; and every thing that renders human 
existence tolerable and desirable will be abundantly 
enjoyed, not only by one class, but by all ; and not 
only by Protestants, but also by Catliolics. 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 



A TALE OF OUR OWN TIMES. 



BY T. E. \T. 



•'Forgive them, Father, they know not what they do." 

It was a magnificent scene, a scene of joy, and gaiety 
and hope, where Mary Lee stood, a happy and trusting 
bride, by the side of him who had gathered her whole 
heart's affections, and sworn earnestly, by the stern 
promptings of a pure nature, to love, cherish and pro- 
tect her, his only beloved, through all the vicissitudes 
of good or of evil which might Hnger about the path- 
way of her life ; — side by side stood they, the youth- 
ful, loving pair, amid the glare of fretted chandeliers, 
in the wealthy mansion of Mary's father. Around them 
were gathered a few friends, and before them stood, 
stately and sullen, a Priest of the Romish Church. 
Mary Lee was a protestant, and already had the mar- 
riage ceremony been performed by a minister of her 
own. church, on the morning of the day on which we 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 105 

are writing, but as her betrothed was a believer of the 
Catholic faith, the ceremony was about to be repeated 
at his request, under the sanction of his own peculiar 
religion. In a hurried manner the officiating priest per- 
formed the marriage ritual, which was no soonet done 
than he turned abruptly to depart. The voice of the 
bridegroom arrested his steps — 

" Holy Father," murmured the young husband, " your 
blessing upon us," and as he spoke liis head was bowed 
in reverence. 

The priest turned towards him and mth uplifted hands 
pronounced the words, " Bratus ; vita brata, my son." 

" Nay, Father, bless us both — give her your blessing 
also." 

This entreaty was answered only with a dark frown 
as the priest, turning from them., ghded hastily from 
the apartment and left the house. 

That scowl, and the refusal of the blessing upon hie 
wife, fell with the weight of lead upon the heart of the 
bridegroom. His head was tiow bowed in despondency, 
and his features, late so radiant with joy, became in- 
stantly pallid and sorrowfiil. But however serious the 
incident appeared to him, it had no effect upon the 
bride, who was but too glad to be relieved of the pres- 
ence of that som- visaged official. She regarded this 
ceremony as a matter of mere form, introduced to 
please her husband, and whether the priest in the su- 
premacy of his will, saw fit to pronounce " benedicite " 
over her Httle head, or leave it unblessed was a matter 



106 THE HERETIC WIFE. 

of no consequence to her. She knew that she had the 
heartfelt blessing of her husband, her father and her 
friends, and v>ith a conscience void of offence toward 
her Maker, she did not pause to weigh the importance 
of an additional benison from a sombre old fellow whom 
she had never seen before, and whom she was not at 
all desirous ever to meet with a^ain. So when she 
witnessed liis refusal of her husband's request, and 
the marked slight wliich that refusal cast upon her, 
though she felt the insult, and retm-ned haughtily the 
parting glance of the priest, the suffused indignant flush 
that for a moment crimsoned her brow, subsided, even 
as the author of it j^assed away from her sight. 

Not so with ber husband, — Ilemy Stratton had been 
reared from his cradle in a strict observance of the te- 
nets of the Romish Church, and in his mind the hostility 
of the clergy was almost equivalent with Divme dis- 
pleasure. A cloud of gloom, still hung over his spirits, 
which even the sallies of his beautiful bride could not 
wholly dissipate. By degrees, however, his face grew 
brighter, and as the gaieties of the evening went on he 
mingled with them, and to all outv/ard appearances, the 
incident had passed from his mind. 

A month had passed away as our young couple sat, 
on a bright evening, in the clear moonlight which poured 
in liquid glory through the lattice of Mary's own 
loudoir. They sat alone and in silence, and the soul 
of the young wife, as she rested her head confidingly 
upon the bosom of her husband, was filled only with 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 107 

visions of a happy future, that seemed to have opened 
its casket of treasures for her alone. In her reverie of 
joy she was startled by an involuntary and deep sigh that 
burst unbidden from the bosom on which she reclined. 

" Why, Harry," she exclaimed, rising from her po- 
sition, and looking her husband full in the face, " what 
volcano of grief is this ? " 

Her husband in silence laid his hand upon his brow. 
Then, in tones more serious she inquired, " Are you ill, 
love ? Are you imhajjpy ? " 

" Mary, dear Mary," he replied, " lie denied you his 
blessing." 

The happy vd^e had forgotten the incident which 
still, as it appeared, rankled in the mind of her hus- 
band ; — but thus reminded she saluted the recollection 
with a merry laugh. 

" Mary, what mean you ? " exclaimed he with a sud- 
den start. 

" Why, I mean to say that you seem prodigiously 
worried over a matter of very little importance," re- 
plied the wife in a gay tone. 

" Mary, you are irreverent ! " exclaimed the husband 
petulently . 

" No, Harry, no, not irreverent," and she placed her 
delicate arm upon his shoulder as she spoke, " but sure- 
ly, you think too seriously of that wilful old priest. I 
regard neither his love nor his hate. What is he to us, 
and what peculiar power has he to bless or to curse ? " 

" Much, Mary, much. I tell you we were better 
dead than to live with his curse resting upon us." 



108 THE HERETIC WIFE. 

" How infatuated you are, dear Harr}', — the priest 
is but a man. God alone has power to sway our des- 
tiny, — God alone can make us ha2}py or miserable. To 
him, and only to him, / kneel, to him and to him only, 
I pray that our hearts may be as one forever, and that 
discord may never come to us." A tear rose fi'om her 
swelling soul and glistened in her eye as she spoke, and 
the last words were mingled almost inaudibly in the 
murmur of a kiss. 

" Dear ISIary, let us tliink no more of this," said the 
husband, as he drew her yielding form more closely to 
him. 

" Oh, Harry, if it had been you that refused to bless 
me, I should be wretched indeed." 

Alas ! there was a gulf between the husband and wife 
which neither as yet realized. Warm and sincere in 
their connubial attachment, the sweetest claims of na- 
ture found an earnest response in their souls, and al- 
though standing over a mine of discord that might- 
explode in a moment, they lived in each others love 
alone. 

Soon after the recurrences related above, three per- 
sons were assembled in an obscure room in what ap- 
peared to be a private dwelling of the lower class, in 
the vicinity of the Cathedral in New York. One of 
them was Father Malone, the priest who had officiated 
at the marriage of Mary Lee ; another was liis associ- 
ate, Father , and the third was a young Jesuit, 

who at this time went by the name of Nicholas. His 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 109 

personage "svas plainly but decently dressed, and but 
for the quick eye, and intellectual countenance which 
he bore, might have been mistaken for one of the mid- 
dle class of Irish emigrants. A small lamp was bm'ning 
upon the table near which they sat, from wliich just 
sufficient hght was emitted to jjroduce a gloomy twi- 
light. The whole aspect of the apartment was sombre 
and bare in the extreme. A coarse table and three or 
four wooden chairs, comprised the furniture, with the 
addition of a cobweb in one corner, which indicated that 
the room was used as a sleeping apartment. Upon the 
table was a small crucifix, a few books and writing 
materials. Father Malone was the first to speak. 
Addressing liimself to liis associate priest, he inquired — 

" Has that young fool, Stratton, been ordered here 
to-night?" 

" Yes ; he is to be here at 10 o'clock precisel)'. The 
old woman below understands it — she'll give us notice 
when he arrives." 

" We have half an hour yet to ourselves, then," said 
the Jesuit with a famiHar air, and looking at his watch. 
" Pray tell me now, most holy Fathers, for what are 
we assembled, and why have you summoned me in this 
shabby-genteel uniform ? " 

" "We have assembled in the cause of our holy re- 
ligion. Master Nicholas," rephed the priest with a sig- 
nificant smile, " and you are summoned to assist us with 
your counsel, and if necessary, to aid us with your la- 
bors." 

8 



110 THE HERETIC WLFB. 

*'In that cause I am bound," replied the Jesuit, 
with a laugh. " What's to be done ? " 

" You are aware that of my flock, the thriving young 
merchant, Henry Stratton, has made a fool of himself 
and jeopardized his soul by marriage with a beautiful 
heretic ? " 

The Jesuit bowed an affirmative. 

" Very well ; do you not know the effect of these 
infernal cross-marriages ? " 

" Yes, your reverence ; sometimes they turn out 
very profitable and sometimes they are bad specula- 
tions. I know that." 

" "Which means that we are to make a convert or 
lose a subject," added the priest inquiiingly. 

"Precisely so." 

" Then you are to understand, that in this case we 
are Hkely to lose the subject, — one, too, that we can- 
not well afford to part with. Stratton is a rising man 
and will become rich. He is even now a liberal con- 
tributor to our coffers, and his largesses will necessa- 
rily increase with his growing wealth. We must keep 
him among the faithful." 

" What reason have you to fear his apostacy ? " 

" Reason ! " exclaimed the priest, " reason enough. 
The fellow is a mellow-hearted, simple youth, who fol- 
lows our commands because he believes in our faith." 

"Well, what then?" 

" What then ! He loves his wife." 

" That's natural, — especially if she is pretty and 



THE HERETIC WW^. Ill 

yielding. The man who would not love his wife under 
such circumstances, is a fool, heretic or no heretic," 
responded the Jesuit with a laugh. 

" She is not merely pretly," continued the priest ; 
" she is beaulifid. A glance at her voluptuous per- 
son would almost shake the vow of one of our own 
holy order ; " — 

A low chuckling laugh from the Jesuit, here inter- 
rupted the speaker. But the intrusion was instantly 
rebuked with a mock frown from both his companions. 

" Oh, Jioly father ! " exclaimed the Jesuit, ironi- 
cally, " I pray you go on. I said nothing ; but you 
must pardon me for disbeheving so disparaging con- 
fession." 

" Perhaps, brother, your own sanctity may be put to 
the test in tliis very case," said Father Malone. 

" I assure your reverence I shall not shrinlc from the 
trial," responded the Jesuit, in a pleasant tone ; " but 
pray, go on." 

" As I said, then, this woman is beautiful, and the 
man simple-hearted and disgustingly loving. But 
that's not the worst." 

" Indeed ! " 

" Aye, indeed. She is his superior every way ; — 
intellectual, independent, a confirmed heretic and as 
proud as lucifer." 

" Whew," whistled the Jesuit. 

" Can you read the result in this description ? " con- 
tinued the priest. 



112 THE HERETIC WIFE. 

" As plain as a pike-stafF, youi* reverence. If this 
booby is left to liimself, he is a lost sheep, certainly." 

" Exactly so. You must help us to save him." 

"Agreed." 

" And to bring her into the fold also." 

" With all my heart ; but how is it to be done ? 
You have a plan ; what is it ? " 

" Simply this. You are a good book-keeper ? " 

" None better." 

" Stratton wants the services of such a man, to act 
also as confidential clerk, an^ reside in the family." 

" I lack employment, and such a place W'ould suit 
my taste to a fraction," said the Jesuit. 

" And when there, we leave the rest to your own 
keen wit. That woman must be brought on her knees 
before the confessional or else forever separated from 
her husband. Enough : enter yonder closet, and re- 
main till we call." 

The Jesuit obeyed; and these arrangements were 
but just completed when a footstep was heard on the 
stairs, and a low tap at the door announced a visitor. 

" Is that you, JNIag ? " 

" Yes, your reverence." 

" Come in, then." 

At this summons an old crone, bent double with age 
and liquor, slijjped quietly into the room, and with a 
humble but awkward obedience, announced that the 
expected victim had arrived. 

" Tell him to come up," said the priest. 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 113 

" Yes, yom- reverence," replied the -woman, as with 
another salaam she glided from the apartment. 

Father Malone lifted a pen from the table and 
assumed the attitude of \mting on a half-finished sheet 
that lay before him, while his companion, seizing a book, 
pretended to be deeply engrossed in reading. A first, 
a second, and a third summons, each louder than the 
former, was made by the knuckles of the old crone on 
the outside of the door, before any response was made 
from within. At the last knock, the elder priest 
inquired in a low tone, 

" Who is there ? " 

'• It's only me, your reverence, with the gentleman." 

" Come in, then." 

The door opened, and Henry Stratton, with an air 
of timidity, entered the apartment. The door was 
closed again, and as neither of the occupants appeared 
to notice his entrance, the visitor stood waiting their 
commands. Father Malone at length raised his eyes, 
apparently from a deeply absolving study, until they 
met those of the young merchant. 

" Ah,'my son," said he, " may the Virgin bless you. 
I had forgotten that you was coming. Sit down," he 
added, pointing to the vacant cliah-, " you see we poor 
priests do not Hve sumptuously." 

The young man crossed himself devoutly before the 
crucifix and obeyed in silence. The priest returned to 
his manuscript and wrote again for a few moments 
as if to finish a sentence, then laying his pen gently 
upon the table, again addressed his visitor. 



114 THE HERETIC WIFE. • 

" You are a happy man, my son," he said, "with an 
approving smile. 

" But one thing is wanting, holy father, to make me 
completely so," replied the merchant. 

" Hey dey ! my son, what is that ? I deemed you 
possessed of all things that go to fill the measm*e of 
earthly joy — youth, health, brilliant prospects, and a 
wife at once lovely and loving. "What more on earth 
can you require ? " 

"Your blessing on that wife, father, is all that I 
covet." 

" A heretic ! " exclaimed the priest with warmth. 
"A heretic! You should know, better. The blessings 
of our holy church are reserved for the faithful. We 
squander them not on the infidel." 

" But for my sake. Father." 

" When you have brought her to the confessional 
and the fount of sacred waters, the benedictions of 
holy men shall be showered upon you both; therefore 
look to it. Think of the added lustre of so lovely a 
convert to the cause of the blessed Virgin and the 
saintly calender, to which, doubtless, through her 
transcendent virtues, she Avould be shortly added. And 
then the renown and ghostly influence gained to your- 
self! Is it not worth an efibrt ? It is for tliis, that 
liis Holiness permits these heretical marriages. The 
church cannot bless them, — she stands by, a sorrowful 
witness, for she knows that unless a conversion takes 
place, the result will be, at least, great temporal evil, 



THE HERETIC WQE. 115 

and perhaps the damnation of the parties concerned. 
Look to it son, look to it." 

" Why, Father, it shall be my study to do as you 
desire," repHed the husband. 

" Good, very good," said the priest. " It was for 
this I sent for you. Go, now, and rememher. Your 
own happiness, and the salvation of the soid most 
dear to you, depends on your success." 

The young man arose, and crossing himself again, 
was about to depart, when the wily priest, feigning to 
have forgotten something of importance, arrested his 
progress. 

" Stay," said he, " now I remember, you are in want 
of a trusty assistant in your prosperous business. Is it 
not so ? " and without waiting for a reply, he added — 
" I think I have just the man for you — one of our 
holy faith — a poor but worthy man, of great genius, 
as an accountant, and recently from the old country. 
He lodges in our poor dwelling herej and being a 
stranger and unem^iloyed, you may secure him for a 
trifle. I'll send for him. Brother," he added, ad- 
dressing his companion, who still appeared intent on 
reading, yet who had treasured every word that had 
beea uttered, " pray obKge us by introducing that young 
stranger. I forgot his name — he who lodges in the 
adjoining room." 

The request was complied with, and in a moment 
the cunning young Jesuit, assuming a most humble de- 
meanor, was presented to the merchant. A few words 



116 THE HERETIC WIFE. 

sufficed to bring about an appointment for an inter- 
view between them at the store of the merchant on 
the following day, and the \dsitor departed, but not 
without thanking the priest for the deep and sincere 
interest he had manifested in his welfare. 

This diabolical plot against the happiness of an affec- 
tionate and unsuspecting pair, seemed now m the 
course of full fruition, and the trio of conspirators who 
concocted it could scarce repress a laugh of exultation 
until the one victim Avho had just left them had de- 
parted from the building. A train of dark villanies, 
in wliicli the unsuspecting husband was to be made to 
play a part against his own peace, was here laid — 
the web was woven, and the poor victim fairly in its 
meshes. 

" The silk-brained fool ! " exclaimed the priest, in the 
' midst of a choking laugh. " Ah, you'll have a glori- 
ous place, Master Nicholas, ha, ha, ha. Beware ; she 
is a tempting v/retch, — and you young fellows are, — 
but come, let us quit this filthy den and seek refresh- 
ment for our fainting bodies. Ha, ha, it works well," 
At this signal the conclave arose, and smoothing away 
all traces of merriment, glided silently into the street. 

That night, Harry Stratton approached his home 
with a heavy film about his heart. He felt and be- 
lieved that the conversion of his wife to the faith that 
absorbed his Avhole moral man, would be an act not 
only meritorious on his part, but the means of eternal 
salvation to her he adored. Yet he dreaded an ap- 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 117 

proach against the fortress of her fixed opinions, and 
for the first time trembled as he entered his own dwell- 
ing. The tender embrace of his wife was but coldly 
returned. Sad and perplexed he flung himself into a 
chau". His thoughts were fighting against the natural 
promptings of his generous nature, and while his heart 
yearned ~\\dth the ardor of true affection towards his 
companion, the terrible gulf had been made to yawD 
between them, — on one side he saw the stern, grim 
visage of the Church of Rome, on the other his heretic 
wife, the confiding partner of his bosom. 

" Mary," he said at last, in a voice tremulous but 

tender, " I have seen Father Malone again to-night." 

"Now, Henry," replied the light-hearted wife, "if 

you don't talk less about Father Malone, I shall thmk 

he has more of your love than I." 

" That's impossible, Mary." 

" Well, what says Father Malone ? Have you been 
entreating him again for that omnipotent blessing, the 
want of which has made you almost as sombre as the 
priest himself, and well nigh turned om- honeymoon 
into a marital green cheese ? Tell me what has been 
passing between you. You are as grave as a funeral 
to-night." 

" It is a grave subject, dear Mary, and undeserving 
the levity with which you treat it." 

" Then I beg of you say no more about it. I hate 
gravity, even in a parson ; and what is more, I do not 
believe it necessary to the character of the true Chris- 



118 THE HERETIC WIFE. 

tian. We can't agree on this subject, my dear hus- 
band, so let's change it." 

" But you wish to know what the holy father says ? " 

"I am quite indifferent. It concerns not me." 

" It concerns you nearly ; his conversation was wholly 
■of you." 

" Nothing to my credit, I'll warrant. But 1 am get- 
ting curious* What said he ? " 

" He desires that you may become a Christian" 

" Dare he intimate that I am not a Christian, and do 
you, my husband, reiterate the slander to my face ? " 
exclaimed the lady, m a tone of insulted pride. 

" Our religion, Mary, tells us there is but one 
Chiu-ch." 

" My religion tells me there is but one God, and my 
reverence is due to him alone. His sanctuary is in the 
hearts of the true believers, or if not there, it is no- 
where. All forms, all ceremonies are vain, if the heart 
is cold," repHed the wife. 

" True, but all hearts are measurably sinful, and it is 
only by absolution that they can be purified. The 
priest alone, who is ordained of God, can absolve our 
fiins." 

" Neither the priest, nor the bishop, nor the Pope 
liimself, can absolve us of our sins," returned the wife. 
*^ That is the prerogative of God alone ; and he who 
assumes that poAver is a blasphemer, a — " 

" Silence, Marv," interrupted the husband. " I com- 
mand you to silence ! " 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 119 

" Command ! " exclaimed the insulted lady, starting 
from her seat, as the indignant flush rose to her very 
brow — then almost as suddenly she became ashy pale — 
and throwing herself upon the neck of her husband, 
she murmured, as the tears gushed from her eyes, 
" Oh, Henry, for heaven's sake, for our ovm sake, let 
us speak no more of tliis." She could utter no more. 
The form that Henry Stratton clasped in his arms was 
insensible ! 

The torch of discord was already hghted, which was 
to consume with piercing flames the beautiful fabric of 
domestic happiness that had been reared by the hand 
of Love. The canker-worm had already tasted the 
heart of the flower, and with corroding tooth, wrought 
steadily in its destructive labors. On the following 
day the Jesuit Nicholas became an inmate of the 
family. 

We will not enter upon a recital of the train of vil- 
laiiies practiced against the happiness of Henry Strat- 
ton and his " heretic " wife. The insidious approaches 
%f the Jesuit, first winning the confidence of the wife 
by his humility and politeness, and securing her admi- 
ration by his talents and conversational powers. We 
need not relate how, by degrees, he ventured to take 
part in the theological discourse, always sustaining the 
argument of the husband, and with the poHsh of 
rhetoric glossing over the weak points of his employer; 
and finally, when it became^ apparent that the impene- 
trable walls of her religious belief could not be shaken, 



120 THE HERETIC WEFE. 

the crushing assaults were then levelled against her 
character as a virtuous and faithful -v^ife. In vain did 
she appeal to her husband for protection from the daily 
insults to which she was exposed — he either disbe- 
lieved her, or feared to ^^^indicate his own honor by 
thrusting its assailant fi'om his door. 

To review, steji by step and in detail, the insidious 
plans of jDcrsuasion and coercion; of threats, insults 
and contumely employed by these foul conspu-ators to 
■win their victim first from her religion, and failing in 
that, to seduce her from her fidelity as a wife, would 
occupy a volume. The brief limit allotted to us in this 
article, confines us now to the sequel. 

A year had drawn its slow length tediously by, since 
the marriage of Mary Lee. She had become a mother, 
and with her babe, that tender object of affection in 
her arms, she sought, in the privacy of her own apart- 
ment, that safety and quiet which in society was denied 
to her. At this period we will once more introduce the 
reader to the jmpal trio. The two priests and the 
Jesuit book-keeper are together, but under circum^ 
stances differing from those in which we first met them. 
On the present occasion the apartment is larger and 
well furnished, and on the table, around which they 
are seated, is a singular inedly comprising a crucifix, 
bottles, glasses, a segar-box, writing utensils, and a 
dish of ice. The parties are evidently enjoying an 
hour of relaxation, and the ruby visage of Father Ma- 
lone shows plainly the deep Hbations in which he had 
indulged. 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 121 

" You make slow work," said he, addressing the 
Jesuit — " you make slow work in that affair of the 
Strattons. How is it ? " 

" Slow work ! " rej^lied the Jesuit. " I tell you, the 
de\dl himself could not move that woman." 

" For that very reason we sent an Adonis in your 
captivating person," resjDonded the priest with a laugh. 
'•' I knew she was as j^roud as an empress ; and as 
notliing softens a pretty woman so readily as a fine- 
limbed, conversational fellow, I chose you, above all 
others, as best adapted to the work ; but with all our 
help you have neither converted her nor — " 

" Nor persuaded her to betray her husband," inter- 
posed the Jesuit, as the other hesitated. "That's 
what you was about to say, so out with it, reverend 
Father, we need no equivocation here, I tliink." 

" Shape it in your 0"\mi way, brother," responded the 
l^riest." 

" But I cannot shape it in my omu way," said the 
Jesuit. " When you can draw fire from the moon, or 
convert the ice now floating in your goblet into dia- 
monds, then you may hope to make a CathoHc of that 
woman or corrupt her virtue. Her husband, mider 
my stratagems, has tormented her enough to alienate 
the respect and affection of any Avoman of flesh and 
blood; but she, I tell you, she is granite — adamant! 
The case is a hopeless one." 

" It is plain there is but one alternative left," said 
the priest, who had thus far been a listener. " I have 



122 THE HERETIC WIFE. 

seen enough of her to know that neither fair means 
nor foul — no, not even the rack itself, can move that 
heretic. She has borne all but that already. We 
must either give her up and her husband with her, or 
adopt the alternate — divorced 

Father Malone raised liis drowsy eyes, which sud- 
denly flickered with a sort of hectic animation at the 
suggestion of his associate. But he said nothing. The 
Jesuit cast an inquiring glance at both his companions. 

"It's easily accomplished," continued the proposer. 
"Proof of her infidelity can be given by our friend 
Nicholas ; and every circumstance will favor the plea. 
His fine figure and captivating manner; his long resi- 
dence in the family, and especially the repeated httle 
interruptions to the current of domestic harmony which 
are known to have occurred between herself and her 
husband, all conspire to give' color to the accusation." 

A long, low whistle, announced the effect which this 
proposition had made on the Jesuit, Avho did not quite 
rehsh the idea. Father Malone smiled and moved his 
head up and down two or three times approvingly ; 
and as soon as the last cadence of the Jesuit's whistle 
had died away, he inquired — 

" Pray, holy Father, who is to make the accusation ? " 

"Htr husband," answered the priest." 

Insatiate plotters, you have struck the chord at last ! 
The die is thrown ! Can nothing soften your hatred ? 
Are the heart-rending pleadings of oppressed, crushed 
virtue, unheard ? Is it notliing to strike to death the 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 123 

cherished hopes of the golden promises of a happy 
family, and consign to a life of misery those whom 
nature and the God of natm-e have ordained for an 
inheritance of earthly joy ? Does-'your religion de- 
mand that she, the innocent, the virtuous and the 
young, must kneel at your shrine or be doomed to 
unmerited infamy and a life of sorrow and disgrace ? 
Even so, alas ! 

" No compunctious visitings of nature 

Shake your fell purpose." 

She must suffer to ai3pease your Jtoly revenge. 

Mary Stratton was accused of infidelity, but not 
until the plots and intrigues of her enemies had been 
so well laid as, by circumstantial evidence, to preclude 
a doubt of her guilt. A decree of divorce was obtained 
upon the testimony of the Jesuit book-keeper, who 
did not scruple to commit the act of perjury for the 
accomplishment of the behest of " the Church." And 
the innocent wife, cast off by her husband, chsoAAiied by 
her father, and separated from her infant, fled, broken- 
hearted and covered with infamy, to the open arms of 
a widowed aunt. One generous heart still clung to 
her, one confiduig friend yet believed her innocent — 
and in her bosom, liiding her face from the treacherous 
and unfeeling world without, Mary Stratton poured 
forth the torrent of her despair. Not long, not long 
was the struggle. The gentle vine, shaken from its 
shelter by the rude blast, and all its tendrils lacerated 



124 TIIE HERETIC WIFE. 

and torn, soon faded. The crushed heart could not 
long outlive its blighted honor, and so — it died. 

It v/as on a soft spring morning — an unusual hour — 
that the solemn tones of the funeral bell at Greenwood 
were heard moaning through the sylvan recesses of 
that lonely cemetery. The atmosphere was hazy, and 
the emerald carj^eting of the undulating grounds shone 
with a dark, rich lustre. The young leaves of the 
weejDing cypress, foremost of the spring, whose droop- 
ing branches hung like a still and sorrowful drapery 
amid the yet leafless oaks, afforded an eloquent contrast 
and told the story of a new-born summer. How apt 
the scene ! Death in the morning of life ! — Death in 
the morning of sweet summer ! In yonder coffin hes 
a young heart, broken by despair, pulseless, silent and 
cold. A funeral cortege moves with slow and solemn 
pace through the rustic porch of the calm city of the 
dead. 

A sombre hearse in weeds of mourning, bears the 
undefiled tenement of a spirit that hath taken refuge 
from earthly persecution in the citadel' of eternal life. 
A single carriage follow^s the hearse. There is a man, 
past the meridian life ; around his temples the hoar of 
coming old age is sprinkled, yet he sits firm and up- 
right, following his daughter to the grave. Beside him 
sits a woman clad in the dark habihments of woe, and 
bowed down with grief. It is his sister. With them, 
the pious minister of God. No other mourners fol- 
low ! On, through the winding pathway, amid tombs 



THE HERETIC WIFE. 125 

and mausoleums, moved the brief prossession until it 
reached the spot where the yawning earth had opened 
to receive its own. Here it paused. Within a neat 
enclosure, upon the iron gate of which appeared the 
name of " Lee," a grave was"made for the new comer. 
Two mounds, overgrown~with^vmes and flowers planted 
by her hands, and flanked with]ornate tablets, told of a 
mother and a brother gone before. Beside them the 
open place was made for Mary. Although disowned 
in life, the father's heart too late relenting, received his 
child in death and placed her by her mother. 

It seemed too short, — that touching address to the 
throne of grace, where the good man consigned 

"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes; " 

for it was full of charity, and love, and earnest suppli- 
cation. Even the laborers, who stood by with spade 
in hand, inured by custom to scenes like this, wept as 
they Hstened. A brief prayer followed — then the 
box Avas lowered, and the earth closed up over all that 
remained of the broken-hearted — the Heretic Wife. 



RELATION OF AMERICAN WOMEN TO 
PATRIOTISM. 



BY MES. MART ANN WHITAKEB. 



The influence of woman, though commonly recog- 
nized as one of the most important elements of social 
life, is yet but imperfectly comprehended by many, 
whose characters bear the ineffaceable impress of her 
power. But there are great spirits, imfolding them- 
selves into the sublime proportions of a true humanity, 
strengthened by her self-devotion, and inspired to noble 
effort by the eloquent appeals of her heroic example, 
who testify to mankind how much the destinies of 
indi^dduals, and even of nations, are guided and gov- 
erned by those deep, silent movements which are too 
often disregarded amidst the tumult and confusion of 
the world. To woman then, we look for sympathy in 
every new struggle for freedom, — with every onward 
step in the path of progress, and hope for success 
according to the earnestness of her co-operation. 

In the various discussions and opinions on " Woman's 
Rights," " Woman's Sphere," and other topics of the 



AMERICAN WOMEN. 127 

same class which are so prominent in our day, the 
thoughtful mind will find much to awaken reflection, 
on a subject where truth, simple and unvarnished, 
should be the sole object of our search. We do not 
want shado^vy speculations, easily grasped by adopting 
the opinions of a party, or a particular individual, 
without exercising that severe and unprejudiced scru- 
tiny, which alone can make conviction sm-e by the 
living action of experience ; but we do need awakening 
to the fact that the fountains of woman's spiritual 
nature, are too often frozen to lifeless inacthity by the 
conventional customs and arbitrary laws of society. 
Nature has been driven fr'om her sanctuary, to make 
room for the idol Fashion, and thousands blindly sacri- 
fice themselves, willing victims to her imperious and 
tjTannical demands, till every sentiment of natural 
freedom is crushed beneath the iron will of the despot, 
and the glory of their womanhood departs to retm-n no 
m(^-e. 

And this with our boasted repubUcan institutions, 
where simplicity of character, and individual hberty 
should be preserved with religious care, towards which 
many a brave heart in the mother country yearns with 
ardent desire ; believing in the sincerity of our profes- 
sions, and the faithfulness of our devotion ! This mean 
subservience encouraged in a nation whose existence is 
based upon the ruins of aristocratic oppression ! Surely 
slavery exists in unsusj^ected forms ; let us take heed to 
our condition ere we venture to pronounce ourselves 
free. 



128 AMERICAN WOMEN. 

A stranger, joining a hasty acquaintance vnih the 
manners and customs of our people "would look in vain 
for that strong, earnest originality of character by Tshich 
the genuine American ought to be distinguished. For- 
eign fashions, foreign luxm-ies, foreign vices abound 5 
after all but miserable caricatures of the originals; 
unsuccessful attempts at imitation and display, which 
meet with the ridicule they deserve, and will, we 
fervently hope, be banished by a revolution in public 
opinion, hostile to all aggressions upon the purity and 
integrity of the repubhcan heart. 
LThe holy fire of patriotism must be kept burning 
upon the domestic altar, or it will die out, while selfish 
hands kindle a counterfeit flame, whose false glare will 
dazzle the eyes of the beholder, luring him on, till he 
brings his choicest treasures an offering to Mammon — 
still deeming himself a worshipper of Liberty. 1 

In the name of freedom, — in the name of rehgion, — 
by the love she bears to her country and her God, let 
every woman in this favored land look well to her 
solemn duties and responsibilities. Members of a vast 
community, in which the brotherhood of humanity is 
professedly recognized ; where those earth-born dis- 
tinctions which have darkened the old world with 
ignorance and crime, are said to be excluded — where 
all men are called free, and are sujDposed to enjoy equal 
opportmiities of development and culture ; the women 
of America cannot be blind to the truth, that in private 
as well as in public life there is a sad, a terrible contra- 



AMERICAN WOMEN. 129 

diction to those great principles wliich are so eloquently 
advocated in the Church, in the Senate, on the reform 
platform, and in the less imjjosing, but equally impres- 
sive teachings of the School room and home. 

It is to those great principles which underhe the 
American Government, developed m earnest, spiritual 
life that hope points ^vith prophetic finger as to a sure 
means of redemption for om* comitry. Far from the 
excitements of fashionable dissipation, apart from the 
discordant elements which incapacitate the mind for a 
calm sm-vey of the world's movements, are beautiful 
home-temples where the spirit of Christianity dwells in 
its native simpHcity and pmity. These are the nurse- 
ries of freedom, — the stronghold of Republican insti- 
tutions ; and it is to them we must look for the firm, 
undecaying materials of which alone the glory of tliis 
RepubHc will be built up, if it is to be a reahty rather 
than a name. There, the mother, honored, reverenced 
and trusted, can implant the noblest lessons of patriotic 
virtue, — there the aspiring soul of youth may rise to 
lofty duty, and his heart be filled with a diviner love 
than earth can bestow. Oh ! it is in the quietude of 
holy thought, beneath the light of youth's starry 
heaven of hope and joy, that those vast ideas are born, 
which in Time's onward course grow into material 
existence to bless and elevate mankind. 

If we would have Men to represent our institutions, 
strong, virtuous, earnest, religious Men, whom no bribe 
can tempt, no misfortune dwarf to insignificance, we 



130 AMERICAN WOMEN. 

must look to woman for their formation. Wheii true 
to her sacred mission, her power can purify the social 
atmosphere, tainted as it is by dissimulation, cowardice, 
and selfish ambition ; her all-commanding-presence will 
restrain the xicious worldling, and convince the cold 
unbeliever in human virtue what man shall be, when 
she has courage to assert the dignity of her j)osition. 
Yes, the homes of America are the birth-places of her 
national greatness, and woman as its guardian angel, 
will arise at the call of duty. 

In the morning of life, when fresh buds of thought 
and affection are day by day unfolding themselves, the 
sun of woman's love must warm them into maturity of 
» beauty. When the full heart of childhood gushes with 
an overfloAv of feeling too strong for its tender spirit to 
control, the true mother well knows it needs, and 
receives the precious offering into the ever enlarging 
fountain of her own sweet sympathies ; — if the young 
eye flashes with a divine thought, her eye beams a 
divine answer. Does the voice of her beloved one 
discourse in simple eloquence of the soul's inward 
longings, so often reproved as foolish fancies, such a 
mother, miderstanding that childhood's questionings 
and experiences, are proofs of the most solemn reali- 
ties of our being, will herself become even as a little 
child, and thus Mill they seek together those truths 
the Infinite One alone can reveal. And as years roll 
on, the love of the true, the good, and the beautiful , 
which at first was confined to one only object, will 



AMERICAN WOMEN. 131 

expand into an all-embracing benevolence, till nature 
and humanity are too limited to contain its aspirings, 
and it can only rest satisfied on the bosom of its God. 

Amidst such influences, and no other, can patriotism 
and freedom dwell in safety. Outward organizations 
have their uses, and must be maintamed with sincerity 
of purpose, but organizations will effect little miless 
each individual member carry with him that pure 
enthusiasm, that devotion to the right w^hich proceeds 
from earnest, truth-seeldng, and faithful personal expe- 
rience. 

If, then, we would secure the happiness and prosperity 
of our comitry, it must be by a union of interests ; by 
sanctifying the home, and through that mighty influence 
infusing the domestic sympathies into public life, so that 
we may exist as a great national family, all working in 
their separate spheres for the general good, unfettered 
by selfish aims, and striving to become in deed and in 
truth, gloriously free. 

Let it not be supposed, however, that we w^ould advo- 
cate an illiberal and exclusive nationahty; we only 
condemn the adoption of such a standard of morals and 
manners as w^ould destroy those energies, and simple, 
unostentatious habits, wliich should be the glory of our 
Republic. Wliile rejecting all that is false and artifi- 
cial, let us gladly welcome every new incentive to 
virtue and progress, though springing from a foreign 
soil, let it take root and prosper, for whatever is noble 
and beautiful is worthy of imitation, and if from the 



132 AMERICAN WOMEN. 

rich sources of mental and moral excellence which 
abound in the old world, we are permitted to take and 
dispense liberally, let us be gratejpul for the pri\ilege, 
ever remembering that there are spiritual bonds which 
unite man to man, and nation to nation, in one universal 
brotherhood, which no rude, narrow prejudices should 
ever tempt us to weaken or tear asunder. 

Thou, by whose inspiration 

Brave thoughts and deeds have birth — 
Whose piercing eye illumines 

The darkness of our earth ! 
Breathe on each kindling spirit, 

Pour down thy holy light, 
So shall the flame of Freedom 

Still burn, divinely bright. 





n 



ir /?■ ^ 



("/ a C^y/^^l^ c^v/J^^^7^ 



THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON 



BT ERASTU3 POULSON, ESQ . 



The grave is a subject that has occujjied the thoughts 
of mankind from a very early period in the liistory of 
the world. As soon as Adam had Aiolated the com- 
mand given him, and eaten of the forbidden fruit, so 
soon did the fiat of Jehovah go forth, that death should 
be the consequence ; and when death was decreed as 
the penalty for sin and transgression, man, being a 
reasoning creature, turned his thoughts to inqiui'e as to 
the place of his abode after having lived out the term 
allotted to him on the earth. 

The first mention made of the Grave, in Holy 
Writ, is that " Rachel died and was buried in the way 
to Ephrath, and Jacob set a pillar upon her grave ; 
that is the pillar of Rachel's grave unto this day.'^ 
And again, when the brethren of Joseph conspired 
against him, and sold him into Egypt, and took his 
coat dipped in the blood of an animal which they 
killed for that pm*pose, and brought it to his father, in 
order to convmce him that an evil beast had devoured 



134 THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

Joseph, Jacob was distressed, and refusing to be com- 
forted for the loss of liis son, " rent his clothes and 
said, I will go down into the grave unto my son, 
mourning." From that period to the i^resent time, in 
all countries, and by all people, there has been a sacred- 
ness, respect and veneration connected with the last 
resting-place of man, that has almost, in some instan- 
ces, amounted to fanaticism. 

It is said of Jacob, that before he left the land of Ca- 
naan to go down into Egypt, that he digged liis grave, 
and when about dying, he made his sons swear that they 
would take him down into the land of Canaan and bury 
him there ; and liis son Joseph kept the promise made 
to his father, for it is said, " When Jacob died, Joseph 
obtained the consent of Pharaoh, tools^ his father and 
went up to the land of Canaan, and all the elders and 
servants of Pharaoh's house went "with liim, and there 
they buried liim in the grave which he had digged before 
leaving Canaan ; " and when the inhabitants of the 
land saw the mourning of the people — saw the sorrow 
depicted on their comitenances and heard their lamen- 
tations — saw the care manifested to mark and preserve 
from molestation the sacred spot where was deposited, 
the last remains of him whose memory was so dear, 
they came to the conclusion that this was a grevious 
mourning to the Egyptians, and gave the name of the 
place " Abel-Mizriam," i. e., the mourning of the Egyp- 
tians. 

The grave is a holy spot, romid which the sorro^vvful 



• THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 135 

survivors gather as at a shrine, where, in the transfer of 
their thoughts and affections to the mortal remains of 
him who rests there, they may recall more faithfully 
the memory of the loved and the lost. When nature, 
throughout her mde domain, proclaims the tidings of 
decay and dissolution, the mortal part of man is lain 
in the grave to slumber -sdth the unconscious dead, — 
and who can tell how much of a loving heart's treasiure 
a single grave may enclose. How often, as we have 
looked upon the grave in some quiet spot, have we 
imagined that fairy hands had indeed tended the sod — 
the turf so richly green, the flowers so freshly bright. 
No noxious weed or rank herbage was allowed to grow 
there. To prevent the intrusion of careless footsteps, 
and preserve it from the harvsher influences of the sea- 
sons, had been the peculiar care of some loved sur- 
vivor; — it was "Holy Ground." 

" Speak of the dead! let their names be heard — 
There is mournful magic in every word ; 
A holy charm that thrills the heart, 
Though the sigh will come, and the tear will start. 
Ye may bear your dead to their lonely rest, 
Hear massive marble upon each breast, 
Yet, how coldly the sculptured stone will tell, 
Of the friends ye have known and loved so well ! " 

With Avhat feelings of delight does the traveller visit 
the birth-place of men, renowned in the history of the 
world. The chamber where the light first dawned 
upon a Newton, a Napoleon, a Washington — the room 



136 THE GKAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

where their playful sports were witnessed by a fond 
mother, and where the first budding of a superior in- 
tellect was fii'st noticed and encouraged by a doting 
father, is visited, gazed upon, and almost adored. 

The house of Uriah, the palace of David, the mosque 
of Solomon, are objects of intense interest. The ground 
on which they stand, is sacred — each house has its 
legend, each stone is hallowed. And if these spots, 
once the earthly abodes of the living, are thus sought 
for and visited with so much gratification and delight, 
how much more res23ected, more honored, more sacred, 
should be the final resting-place — that home, in wliich 
" the wicked cease fi-om troubling and the weary are at 
rest." 

If the bu'th-place of Zachariah and Absalom were 
held in everlasting remembrance by the Hebrews, how 
much more are. their tombs entitled to affectionate 
regard. 

The vale of Jehoshaphat, which was ever the favorite 
burial-place of the Hebrews, is filled^ with grave-stones 
to mark the spot of those fortunate enough to obtain a 
bmial-place there ; and, to this day, may be seen the 
pious Jew wending his way to the grave of his fathers, 
and calling upon the spirit wliich he imagines still 
fingers around the honored dead, to remember him in 
his forlorn and forsaken condition. Of the many in- 
teresting spots associated with the life of the Saviour, 
when upon the earth, all sinli into insignificance when 
compared with the place of his burial. The manger in 



THE GRAYE OF WASHINGTON. 137 

which he was born ; the house of Mary and Martha 
which he so often \isited ; the Temple, in which he 
taught the peojDle the subKme truths of the Gospel ; 
the sea of GaHlee, along whose banks he so often wan- 
dered and conversed with his disciples ; the rock, from 
which he predicted the destruction of the Temple ; 
the brow of the hill, from wliich " Ou?^ Father ivho art 
in heaven " was taught ; the Garden of Gethsemane, 
where, from the intensity of his agony, his " sweat be- 
came, as it were, great drops of blood," — these are all 
interestmg places, a visit to which is calculated to call 
forth the sympathies of the heart; but when one 
approaches the Holy Sepulchre^ feelmgs of love and 
reverence indescribable, fill the soul of the believer. 
The place, the scene at once sanctifies the imagination, 
and one is elevated almost into another state of exis- 
tence, and is ready to exclaim, " Behold the place 
where the Lord lay, — behold the sepulchre of him 
who died for thy sins ! " 

We are but sojourners on the earth, for 

" The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, 
Mankind their last resting-place — the grave! " 

The stream of time, which sweeps everything human 
to obli\don, passes by and leaves untouched the fame of 
Washington. Almost all those who were cotempo- 
rary with him have, by the lapse of time, been swept 
away, so that it is of rare occurrence that you meet and 
converse with one whose personal recollections are 



138 THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

drawn from intercourse with him ; yet he " still lives " 
and moves as the pre siding spirit, over the destinies of 
a i^eople, who, though now greatly increased, acknowl- 
edge him the bright star of their hope, and point to 
him as the guardian angel of this their beloved Amer- 
ica. And though his bodily presence is long removed 
from them, they tiu'n their footstej^s to the Grave of 
Washington and see him in imagination, again moving 
and acting as of yore. "Whatever belonged to him has 
become dear to mankind. The gromid liis feet pressed 
is sacred. The trees he planted with his own hand, 
the groves through which he walked at evening, still 
seem to breathe his name as they rustle their leaves. 

Several years ago, we left the City of Washington to 
visit Mount Vernon, — the home and resting-j)lace of 
Washington, — the " Mecca of American Liberty." 

The air was cold and bracing, but as the sun came 
peeping above the banks of the Potomac, and rose 
nearer to liis meridian splendor, his warming influences 
softened the wintry atmosphere of February. Old 
Boreas had stripped the trees of their foliage ; the rich 
carpeting which a few months ago had covered the 
earth, was removed by the touch of his icy fingers, and 
the earth was cold and hard as the stone which covered 
the remains of him whose deeds occupied so large a 
place in our thoughts. 

Nature had interposed and removed from our path- 
way all attractions, and our thoughts were allowed full 
scope to their commmiings. We could not be gay, — 



THE GRA'V^ OF WASHINGTON. 139 

we felt sad ; but it was a holy sadness — for we realized 
that we were approaching the spot where the greatest 
and best of manldnd rested from his labors. Mh*th 
had no place in our feelings, — levity could not enter 
into the transactions of that day. 

After a long ride, through the forest, we arrived at 
the gate of the venerable mansion where Washington 
Hved and died. At this gate, as its keeper, resided the 
only living servant of the Patriot. We entered the 
dwelling and commenced a conversation with her, and 
the incidents that she related of her old master were 
of such interest, that time passed unheeded, and ere 
we were aware, an horn' was spent in her presence. 

She said she was fifteen years old when the General 
came back from the wars, covered with victory, and she 
remembered him well as he rode through the gate 
which we had just passed, and said, " Ah ! my little 
Sylvia, the Britishers didn't hit me after all, and they 
have all gone back to old England ; and I have come 
home to live and die on the estate." She seized the 
" General's " hand and kissed it, and wet it with her 
tears. 

She saw her master die — she saw him when dead. 
And as she related this, the tears streamed from her 
eyes, and looking uj) to heaven, pointed her hand away, 
and said, " Well, if weaver go to heaven, we shall meet 
the General there." As we Kstened to her voice and 
saw the intensity of her feehngs, the tears involuntarily 
started down our own cheeks, and our inmost soul ex- 



140 THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

claimed, acquiescing in her last remark, — May we all 
meet liim there ! 

Leaving this gate, we wended our way slowly another 
half mile, through deep ravines, and over lofty emi- 
nences, and reflected that we were passing over new 
gi'ound 5 but it was ground that had often been travelled 
by the hero when warm with life. 

At last our carriage, rising to an eminence, gave us 
a glimpse of the wall and observatory of the Home of 
AVashuigton. As we gazed upon it, our e}es filled with 
tears. We Avere now, fo r the first time, looking uj)on 
the home of the father of oiu: great and glorious 
nation, where eagle's whigs stretch from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific, over rich valleys thronged "vsith prosperous 
and happy habitations, and over rugged mountains and 
streaming rivers, bearing upon then- surface the wealth 
of millions. 

We stood before a ruin ! The master of the house 
had long since gone away, and time had left the man- 
sion like 

" Some banquet hall deserted." 

The master was not here ; they had borne liim away. 
We entered the mansion and were shown through the 
apartments usually thrown open to visitors. We saw 
the parlor, the di-awing-room, the dining-room, ■with 
the mantlejiiece presented to him by Lafayette. We 
desired to visit the chamber where Wasliington died. 
This was denied, but as we passed out into the yard, 



• TIIE G-RAYE OF WASHINGTON. 141 

Tve were pointed to one of the upper rooms as the 
sacred place. We were shown the lemon-tree which 
he planted with his ovm hands ; it was old, but still 
green as the memory of him who planted it. 

We inquired for the spot to which they had borne 
him, and were du-ected to the green slope towards the 
river, not far fi-om the bank ; and there they showed us 
Washington's Tomb. We slowly and reverently 
gathered there and bowed before it in gratitude, silence 
and tears. We were satisfied. This, of all the spots 
on the green earth, we had delighted to visit. From 
om- school-boy days, to a more mature age, we had felt 
a love and veneration for this spot. Never were the 
ashes of an individual watered by more grateful tears, 
than were the ashes of him whose mortal remains were 
here lain. Pens have attempted to portray his char- 
acter, and describe the sincere and afflicting sorrow 
that penetrated the heart of the people when liis mor- 
tal remains were here dejoosited. The pencil and 
chisel have vied with each other in a laudible attempt 
to perpetuate his lilveness ; but all efforts have measur- 
ably failed. His likeness was concentrated in himself 
alone, and those who have never beheld it there, will 
search for it in vain. His memory will never be 
efl^ced from the heart of an American, while the spot 
that contains his remains can be visited or pointed to* 
And though Mount Vernon, the home of his youth, 
may pass into other hand«, and Time, the leveller of all 
things, doom to decay the room v/here he was born, 
10 



142 THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

and the works which his hands have made, yet his 
fame, his noble virtues, wll ever be remembered; his 
name revered and adored. 

We left this place as the sun was going down the 
western sky, and passed slowly, silently and solemnly 
away from the sacred groves which cluster around The 
Grave of Washington, 



A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 



BY REV. HENRT WARD BEECHEE. 

It is difficult to choose between the scenery of the 
ocean side, and inland scenery, if one were to have the 
liberty of but one of them. Both of them take hold 
of the imagination with great power ; both are stimu- 
lating, and yet soothing. But they act upon the mind 
in a very different way, and one worthy of some exami- 
nation. 

The power of the mind to animate natural objects 
with its own emotions, and gradually to clothe external 
objects with the attributes and experiences of the soul, 
is well knoAvn. The place where any event In our his- 
tory has occurred, becomes a memorial of the feelings 
which that event excited in us. The walk which, for 
years, our feet have trod in hours of meditation, is no 
longer a dry jaath, half-leaf-covered, obscure among 
the imderbrush, or sinuous along the summit of the 
overlooking bluff. It has become entrusted with our 
deepest sensations. It speaks to us, and we talk with 
it. It is a journal of our gradual experiences. A rock, 



144 A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 

under whose sides we have been wont to commune with 
God, and dream of the future, can never assume a 
merry face or irrevent demeanor. The home-trees 
under which we sit with daily friends, become social 
and familiar ; those which our sohtude seeks out, and 
under which we take refuge from men, whose whisper- 
ing boughs charm our cares, or whose silence descends 
from fer-up branches, through which we see the heavens 
above, to quiet our fears or sorrows — become sacred 
companions. Thus, too, certain places — bends in a 
river, nooks in a mountain-side, clefts in rocks, seques- 
tered dells — have their imputed life. Whenever we 
come back to these places, it is as when one reads old 
letters, or a journal of old experiences, or meets old 
friends, that bring thronging back with them innu- 
merable memories, and renewed sensations of ^jleasure 
or sadness. 

Ocean prospects can not have such effects. "Whatever 
may be the sources of its power, it does not depend 
upon association. There are no permanent objects. 
The waves of yesterday are gone to-day ; and the calm 
of to-diy will be tumultuous to-morrow. The very 
effect of the sea, in part, depends ujDon its exceeding 
changeablencss. Upon what can we hang our associa- 
tions ? The line of coast supplies a partial resource, 
but the sea none. Is has no nooks, or dells, or caves, 
or overhanging rocks, which, once formed, abide for- 
ever. It has no perpetual boughs or enduring forests. 
Its mountains are liquid, and flow down in the very 



A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 145 

same moment that they lift themselves up. The "wide 
and whole sea, as a great One, to be sm-e, comes to us 
always the same ; but its individual features are always 
strangers. Its waves are always new waves ; its rip- 
ples are always formed before us ; its broad and un- 
crested undulations are fresh and momently produced. 
If we go do-\^-n to the shore to mom*n for those who 
shall not come forth from the deep till the arch-angel's 
trump shall bring forth its dead — though we shed 
daily tears for weary months, they treasure up no asso- 
ciations in the rolling waters or bright glancing calms ; 
and if the place becomes sacred, it is the shore, the 
surrounding rocks, or sand-hills, and not the ever-born, 
ever-dying waves. 

The operation of these causes extends to level coun- 
try scenery. The mind seldom wishes to trust much 
to a level and insipid country. Tlie inhabitants of such 
plains form but feeble local attachments with natural 
objects. But those mountain-born, become so m- 
tensely attached to their familiar places, that when 
removed from them, home-sickness becomes a disease, 
and preys upon the frame like a fever or a consumption. 

The scenery of the sea addresses itself to a different 
part of our being. It speaks more to the imagination 
than to the affections, giving fewer objects for analysis 
or examination ; forever throwing off the eye by revo- 
lutions of form and changeableness, and refusing to 
become fimlliar in the patient and gentle ways of com- 
panionship, that venerable forests and benignant moun- 



146 A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 

tains assume. The sea is not a lover and friend, but an 
inspire!' and austere teacher. Trees soothe us and 
comfort us by sympathy. We will stand in our sor- 
row?:, or yearnings, or sadness ; but they come to us, 
and with ten thousand airy voices or melodious whis- 
perings, and mingling better thoughts and faith with 
our fretful experience, they sweeten the heart without 
washing away its thoughts with forgetfulness. 

But the sea forces life away fr'om us. We stand 
upon its shore as if a new life were opening upon us, 
and we were in the act of forgettmg the things that 
are behind, and reaching forth unto those which are 
before and beyond. The unobstructed distance, the 
far horizon line, on which only the eye stops, but over 
which the imagination bounds, and then first perceives 
plainly where the eye grows dim ; the restless change, 
the sense of endless creative power, the daily and 
sometimes hom-ly change of countenance, that makes 
you think that the ocean revolves deep experiences in 
its bosom, and reveals distinctly upon its mutable face, 
expressions of its jjeace, or sorrow, or joy, or struggle, 
and rage, or victory and joyfulness again ; these are 
phenomena that excite us, and carry us away from life, 
away from hackneyed experiences. We come back to 
life as if from a voyage, and familiar thmgs have grown 
strange. 

A frequent and favorite ride, with us, is to Fort 
Hamilton. It lies in part along the Long Island side 
of New York Bay and the Narrows, and terminates a 



• A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 147 

little beyond the Fort, where between the dim sand- 
points of Coney Island on the left, and the Hook on 
the right, the ocean stretches out itself. 

It is an autumnal day; the leaves are changed, but 
not fallen. The air is mild and genial. The carriage 
stands at the door ; the mother is ready ; the friends 
are waiting, and Charley paws impatient 1}^ Away we 
go rattling over the noisy j^avement, enduring, rather 
than enjoying, till we reach the toll-gate. This passed, 
the fresh sea-smell comes across the bay, and we look 
out upon heaps of sea-weed on our right, odorous in 
its peculiar and not disagreeable way. The bay is 
specked with sails. Staten Island stands boldly up on 
the far side, a noble frame to so beautiful a picture as 
New York Bay. 

The wheels roll softly over the smooth causeway till 
we enter the street of Gowanus, when again we quake 
and shake for a long mile over execrable j)avements, 
•poorly laid at first, and through daily use, grown daily 
worse. For oh, my friends, this is death's highway ! 
Here, through almost every hour of the day he holds 
his black posessions to Greenwood. And now we 
reach the corner which leads to the Funeral-Gate ; this 
is the corner guarded with oysters, hquor and cakes, 
on one side, and a thriving marble-cutting, monument- 
maldng business, on the other. It is quite American, 
One reflects with peculiar emotions upon these happy 
national conjunctions of dissipation, commerce, and 
death-rest. But, after all, is not tliis an unconscious 



148 A RIDE TO FOET HAMILTON. 

tyjDe of life ? Is there not, every day, if we would see 
it, just as terrible a mingling of things sacred and pro- 
fane ? And yet it is painful, and always increasingly, 
that there is not in the j)ublic mmd enough taste, or 
sentiment, or superstition, or anything, to keej) the 
sordid huckstering from shoving its bar and booth up 
tp the very cheeks of death and the grave. Or must 
the last sounds that smite the dead man's cofFm, bear 
witness of the spirit of that great, sordid den from 
which he has departed and is departing ? Cut away, 
then, mason, as the mother follows her babe to its 
peaceful bed ; tempt her with your marble cherubs ; 
set your lambs in inviting array, and coax her sorrow 
to buy an angel, or sometliing so called. It is gratify- 
ing for a sorrowful heart to see that you have been 
expecting him ; that you have reckoned that it would 
come to this soon. You are all ready for a bargain, 
just as the undertaker was before you. He had his 
ostentatious coffins, his show-windows, where a man is. 
tempted to stop and examine the latest fashion of a 
coffin, a perfect gem of a thing. One can refresh him- 
self at a hmidred places in the city with such agreea- 
ble sights, and have explanations thrown in for noth- 
ing, of the way in which you would be put in, your 
genteel appearance, the remarkable preservation you 
might reasonably expect ; and if your vanity is suscep- 
tible, it will be gratifying to know, that a connoisseur 
of coffins thinks and assures you that you would make 
one of the most genteel corpses. Pali ! the clink of 



• A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 149 

hammers on marble is harsh discord. Get away, Char- 
ley, leave this behind quickly. 

Neither will we turn in at the Company entrance. 
It is death's ground. All over it he has set up his 
banners of Victory. What has the heart to do there ? 
Why should we -wish to see the weakness — the dis- 
honor, of our mortal bodies ? Was it not enough to 
pray with vain anguish for this life ; to struggle with 
both oars against the stream that was sweeping them 
down toward death, and be yet borne downward ? Was 
not the darkness, the stillness, the bm'den of lonesome- 
ness, the changed aspect of men and the world, the 
thrusting in upon us by invisible power of huge and 
dark distresses, enough ? AVhy should we go in to 
weep afresh ? to wish that we were dead ? to hear the 
trees sigh, and the song of birds changed so that their 
very glee was sad to the ear ? What morbid life is 
that where the light is black, and flowers are mock- 
ers, and leaves are hoarse, and the air, and bhds, and 
every hving thing, a brooding of sorrow ? Then let 
us hasten past the great bosom of Greenwood and 
leave her alone to nurse the dead. 

We are for other scenes; for now we come to a 
little rustic chance on the right, around which we turn 
short, and head toward the water. The way is narrow, 
the road smooth, the sides hedged with trees and 
bushes, and many evergreens intermixed. We emerge. 
There lies the narrowing bay. Up through the nar- 
rows come the weary ships that have struggled bravely 



150 A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 

with the ocean, and -have come home to rest. They 
look grateful. Their sails are loosely furled. They 
submit themselves to steam-tugs with a resigned air, as 
if it was fit, after so great a voyage, that' they should 
rest from toil. Down come ships from the city — some 
with sails and some towed, but all eager, fresh-painted, 
vigorous in aspect, and ready to pitch into storm and 
spray. Little boats slup about like insects. Sloops 
and schooners with snow-white sails, are busying them- 
selves with just as much self-respect, and look of use- 
fulness, as if they had the tonnage of the liugest ship ! 
As we ride leisurely along, we see the original con- 
dition of Brooklyn Heights. The bank plunges pre- 
ciiiitately down to the water, gullied here and there 
with water courses, piled at the base with heaps of 
rocks, and clothed all the way down with evergreens, 
deciduous trees, and bushes. Up through the leaves 
and branches comes the plash of the water, breaking 
on the rocks or gravel. These are wind-ripples ; or 
the waves of steamboats, or the wake of vessels sweep- 
ing close along shore. But whatever makes the wave- 
let, the murmur and splash is musical enough as it 
reaches up to you through the thicket. As we draw 
near the fort, the lower bay opens. Shadows divide 
the light into sections along the surface. The whole 
expanse is full of little undulations that quiver and 
flash, as if beneath the Avater-myrlads of fire-fish rose 
and emitted their light. But all these things we see 
rather, when we return. Now the eye searches the 



* A RIDE TO FORT H.\MILTON. 151 

horizon. There are the faint ships dying out of sight, 
outward bound. That is not a ship — but a mote 
such as dances before the eye strained to penetrate an 
empty distance. Yet a little while, and it^has a sem- 
blance of a cloud. It gathers substance before you, 
and ere long swells its airy proportions "into the un- 
doubted form of a sliip carrjing every bit of sail that 
can be made to cling to the spars. 

AVe turn the carriage from the road ; we grow silent 
and thoughtful ; we gaze and think ; we fly away from 
the eye, and see the world beyond the horizon ; we 
hover in the air over ships upon the equator ; we out- 
run the Indiaman and double the Horn ; we dart away 
westward and overlook the garden of islands, the 
Pacific ! If one speaks, the charm breaks, the fairies 
fly, the vision is gone, and we are back again ! Now 
you may see that noblest of all ocean sights, for beauty, 
a fuU-rigged ship under full sail ! A man that can look 
upon that and feel nothing stir witliin him, no glow, or 
imagination, or sense of beauty, may be sure that 
something imjDortant was left out in his making. If 
you come down here a hmidred times, it is never twice 
alike. Diversity is endless. Its population of sails 
changes ; every change of wind, every mood of atmos- 
phere, every mutation of clouds, every changing hoiu* 
of the sun, give new aspects. It arouses in you an 
idea of infinity. As you look, the serene ocean of 
ether, and the tremulous ocean of water, both, and alike, 
give inspirations. You forget; you let go of care; 



152 A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 

you drop sorrows ; all threads of thought snap in the 
loom, and the shuttle carries a new yam, and the fabric 
stretches out a new pattern. God's truths, that came 
near to fading out among the clang of meix and the 
fictions of the real, gain form and power. The Invisi- 
ble grows more real than the substantial. Nothing 
seems so wild and extravagant as human life. Nothing 
so sweet as fl}ing away from it. The soul hears itself 
called from the other world. Nor does it require that 
sujDremest architect, the imagination, to fashion forth 
the illustrious gate and the blessed city ; not, if your 
ride be at evening, and the sun sets enthroned among 
high-piled and multitudinous clouds. Then the eye 
beholds things unutterable to the tongue. 

How restful is all this ! Irritableness and impa- 
tience is gone. The woes and frets of life are not, 
when we have such wings, hard to be borne. To live 
for the things which occupy God ; to lift up our fellow- 
men, through all the round of human infirmities ; to 
build the substantial foundations of life, to enrich the 
conditions of society, to inspire better thoughts, to 
fashion a nobler character, to stand with Gospel trum- 
pet and banner, and see floating towards it, troops of 
regenerated men, who, ere long, shall throng about our 
Lord, the Christ of God. These seem, then, neither 
unsubstantial ambitions nor impracticable works. Noth- 
ing seems so real as that which God gives the soul 
power to do U2)on the soul. 

But the tide that came down with us is returning. 



* A RIDE TO FORT HAMILTON. 153 

Ships that dashed out toward the sea are slowly com- 
ing up to their anchor, and swinging round toward the 
city. Let us return, for we have flowers to gather 
along the banks, and crimson leaves, and bmnches of 
cedar, clustered full of pale blue berries, and creeping 
strawberry vines. We must clamber down, too, to the 
rocks, and let the water Kck our feet; and gather a few 
choice shells, which the children, at least, will think 
pretty. 

Slowly, and reluctantly, we travel homeward. We 
aj)proach that sweet and restful ground of Greenwood. 
We fliin would draw near and enter in. We have 
sacred rights there, and anticipations of our own bodies 
slumbering there. That which we have committed in 
its mortal part to the earth, God will guard with 
sacred vigilance till the Time comes. All the trees, 
rustling their leaves, are jjrophesying to our ears of the 
trees of life ; and all the bhds and flowers are witnesses 
of God's guardianship. " Shall not He, who careth 
for us, care for your children, which were, and are, his 
own children ? " they say. " Yea," our hearts respond j 
" God hath them. No black wolf of Death shall break 
into that fold to ravish them again. God shall keep 
them till our coming. And with faith and hope, and 
serene content, we wend our way back to life and to 
work, now not bm'densome or hopeless." 



GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 



BY KETKELL COATZS, M. D. 

Whence comes this Influence of the v^ry hreeze of 
our native land, giving to the American man the elastic 
spring of nerve that no misfortune can depress ; — the 
ceaseless energ}' of mind that no research can damit ; 
the stubborn -vvill that laughs at fatigue, and acknowl- 
edges only in death, that any enterprise can be too 
vast for its accompHshment. 

" The boy is father to the man ; " not at maturity 
can he accfuire such traits as these. The soil must be 
propitious, the seed itself well chosen, and the young- 
plant guarded from the early frost, to produce those 
mental fruits which stamp the American as one of a 
peculiar race, adapted, in its very infancy, to the con- 
quest of a continent, and in its early youth, to the j^er- 
fection of a poHtical and social system which is the 
beacon light of civilization and the morning star of 
hope to other lands. 

The liberty which gave character to that race was 
not an importation from abroad, with the Gaelic Pres- 



GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 155 

byterian of the barren Scottish hills, whence, a stern 
struggle with unwilling nature compelled the necessary 
food for man ; where labor gave ii'on strength to wiry 
muscles ; where poverty inclined the soul to God, and 
oppression armed the conscience with ribs of steel. It 
came not with the Saxon Puritan of fertile England, 
relinquishing all that man holds dear in social life, and 
institutions theoretically free, for the wilderness and the 
savage, and that highest earthly boon — the right to 
worship his Creator in his own time and manner. It 
came not with the Norman Cavalier, for whom the mere 
love of adventure — " the rapture of the strife " — was 
a sufficient inducement to sacrifice the advantages of 
noble station in the father-land — 

" Who, for itself, can hail the approaching^ fight, 
And turn what some deem danger, to delijjht." 

Nor came it with the quiet Quaker, the banner-bear- 
er of the abstract right in morals, whose self-sacrificing 
benevolence and passive, non-resistent firmness might 
well befit the purity of the millennium, but not the jjres- 
ent or the coming age of wars and outrage. The im- 
pulsive Irish, the industrious German, the mercurial 
Frenchman, could not have been its parent ; for, though 
many of our forms of law are framed on European 
models, what European system has produced such 
fruit ? With all their classic glory, the republics of 
old Greece were mockeries of thieves ; — that of the 
world's master, Rome, a mockery of robbers. When 



156 GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 

Russian autocracy liberates the serf, to what condition 
does it elevate him ? To that general slavery, only, 
before which the proudest noble bows ! What is French 
freedom, with a shackled press, and a people taught to 
lean upon the State ? — if rich, for their amusements ; 
if poor, for food itself — their energies repressed by 
habitual dependence, and their very individuahty merged 
into the public, hke the soul of the Bramin into the 
essence of the Deity ; — a people whose language owns 
no such word as liome, — whose dictionary presents no 
synonyme for comfort. And what is English freedom ? 
A boasted equality in the eye of the laAV, although that 
law divides society into casts — into broad steppes, con- 
tinually ascending toward the icy atmosphere of an unap- 
proachable throne, but divided by unfathomable gulphs, 
spanned only by narrow bridges, upon wliich the dwell- 
ers of each lower platform struggle to pass over by the 
aid of gold or marriage ; — ever fawning upon those 
above, and trampling upon those beneath, while, where 
one wins his way, thousands fall crushed into the chasm, 
with the world's hiss for their sole requiem ! Was, 
then, American Liberty the child of these ? 

But turn we to the pioneers of our own land ! What 
was the hberty of the cavaliers of the South ? — The 
unruly conflict of a band of free companions Tvith the 
vicegerents of regal power ; a treacherous and uncom- 
promising war upon the rights of a simple-minded, 
hospitable race, and the jollity of a social revel, like 
that of summer butterflies, taking no thought of the 



GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 157 

coming frost ; — a liberty which famine and massacre 
alone could tame — which a belt of savage foes alone 
reduced to reason ! What was the liberty of the jDuritans 
of the North ? A sterp theocracy that rendered the 
Church the tyrant of the fireside — not the less stern 
because that Church was republican in form, though 
an autocrat in essence. Its liberty was the Hberty of 
its own opinions, with the right to enforce them upon 
others by banishments and hangings. But let the veil 
of time still screen the picture. Except " to jioint a 
moral or adorn a tale," let us be deaf to the iNIidias 
whispers of the autumnal breeze, disturbing old dreams 
from their sleep of three hundred years among the leaves 
of the elm on Boston Common ; — let us be blind to the 
sheeted ghosts in melancholy moonhght march on 
Salem hill, and turn in charity to gaze on the slow 
wane of Roger Williams, wending its winding way to 
Providence Plantations ! And what was midland Hb- 
erty ? In Maryland, a religious toleration, which, by 
its very grant, denied the doctrine of religious rights ; 
and, m Pennsylvania, the perfection of religious rights, 
with the refusal of the natural right of self defence, on 
which all civil rights depend for their continuance ! 
Was American Liberty the offspring of there ? 

It was ! But the child was " to the manor born." 
Pull armed, Hke Pallas, the genius of American civili- 
zation, sprung from the brain of the old world, to the 
forest covered shores of the new ; but her few and 
scattered worsliippers were lost in the unmeasured wil- 
11 



158 GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 

derness ; and, struggling for existence with novel diffi- 
culties and novel dangers, solitude and reflection became 
necessities of their condition. The principles of old 
systems, the jaractice of old arts had no fitness — no 
application in those vast old woods ; — the foliage, the 
soil, the very stars were new. The grandeur of cata- 
ract and mountain, the awful stillness of interminable 
groves, were reflected on the mirror of the soul. They 
stamped themselves there forever, as the beautiful in 
nature is impressed upon the tablets of Daguerre. 
There was room in this awful silence for the voice of 
God, and it was heard ! The leaven of original truth 
found entrance into the mouldy mass of preconceived 
ideas — mouldy and covered with the dust of ages. It 
fermented. New combinations took place among the 
elements of thought. Centuries of science and expe- 
rience had charged that mass with elements of which 
the young world knew naught ; and results in the chem- 
istry of morals of which Egypt, Assyria, Greece, Rome 
had never dreamed, startled the lonely tliinlvcr. The 
American Mind was born ! 

Lame and conflicting were its earliest efforts. The 
widely different origin and circumstances of many dis- 
tant colonies produced varieties of law, of custom and 
opinion, and when, in the progress of time, increasing 
" settlements " and population brought the boundaries 
of those colonies together, their interests clashed. Very 
for from unity and strength were thoee various com- 
munities ; but the distant, and consequently feeble hand 



GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 159 

of Power was able to restrain them from civil com- 
motion, and a common fealty still bound them together, 
as children of one family. They clashed, but to as- 
similate ; and assimulation paved the way for fusion. 
The angles of local habit and opinion were worn off by 
the attrition of commerce ; the intolerance of sectarian 
jealousy disappeared under the softening influence of 
social intercourse, and Religious Freedom worthy of the 
name, for the first time, gladdened the world. This 
was the first born child of the American Mind. The 
influence of Williams and Penn, acting through nearly 
a century of time, upon materials which no other sec- . 
lion of this earth could offer — under circumstances 
which no other country could produce — sufficed for 
this new creation ; and Keligious Freedom once ushered 
into life, the advent of her proper offsining. Political 
Liberty, could not be long delayed. 

When at length, foreign oppression gave the colonies 
common cause for resistance, it found them federal m 
heart, and original in thought. The grey-haired fathers 
of the land assembled in their "wisdom, to sever the po- 
litical chain that bound them to an ungrateful foreign 
Prince, and to legislate, in the spirit of prophecy, for 
unborn ages. Their future was vast as their jiatrimony 
of half the world, but their ideas were as vast as their 
future. The towering pride of their .majestic trees, the 
ocean swell of their broad prairies, the mysterious dis- 
tance of the undefined and seemingly limitless West, 
the grandeur of their inland seas, the eternal thunder of 



160 GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 

their torrents, and the unfathomable dejith of their clear 
blue skies had made them so. Some social habits, some 
forms of institutions, they inherited from their European 
ancestry ; but let it not be. said that the spirit of their 
magna cJiarta, their bill of pojiular rights, was the 
child of European genius, or their glorious Constitution 
a reflex from a British system. By none but Americans, 
no where but in America — could that scheme of goY- 
ernment have been devised, which startles the world 
with paradox and astounds it by success. Trusting the 
reins of power, hi/ right, in the hands of an absolute 
people, it escapes the confusion of a democratic assem- 
blage ; — unaided by hereditary rank, it creates a death- 
less Senate ; — without a local sovereignty, its Congress 
controls a nation with more than regal energy ; — gov- 
erned by servants at will of their ovm appointment, the 
people compel themselves to the observance of their o"\mi 
laws, and without patrician classes, establish and main- 
tain the courtesies of social grades ! 

Coeval with that Constitution was the birth of Amer- 
ican Pohtical Liberty ; shall we not claim it, then, as 
native to the soil ? — Grand-child of the American 
Mind ! Bright daughter of Religious Freedom ! Two 
hundred years of pain and struggle, — of solitude and 
thought, — of trial and experience — were necessary to 
thy inception. No other age has seen thy semblance ! 
No other people could endure thy presence ! The wise 
of the old world still shake their venerable locks, and 
prophecy thy early death. Even here, another century 



GENEALOGY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. 161 

has almost passed away, and left thy education incom- 
plete. And shall we still consent that those who have 
been taught, by precept and example, to hate or to 
despise thee — that strangers who know thee not should 
influence thy warm heart, and guide thy actions ? No ! 
" Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye," let them seek 
shelter in the shadow of thy starry banner, and grate- 
fully bask in the sunshine of thy smile ; but when they 
sacrilegiously approach thy altar, to sully with unholy 
hands the sacrifice of blood — to touch those laws and 
institutions entrusted to om* care as priceless relics of 
" the days that tried men's souls," — then let the cry 
be raised — " Prociil, 0, procul esteprofani!" Thy 
virtues are natal and hereditary — we, to the manor 
born, are thy blood, kith and kin ; — "to us, and to our 
posterity " belong the honors of tliy priesthood and the 
conduct of thy councils. This trust descends to us 
from the patriots and sages w'ho nursed thee in thy 
cradle, on the ever memorable day when the great bell 
of Independence Hall rung out the peal of " Liberty 
to all the nations," and, withered be our hands, and 
blighted the best hopes of (jur hearts, when we prove 
recreant to it or thee ! 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA 



BY. REV. W. H. RYDER. 



The remarkable success which has attended our 
national career; the glowing reports which emigrants 
have sent back to their friends at home, and the gene- 
ral good name which our country has abroad, especially 
among the humbler classes of people — these, and 
similar agencies, have brought great numbers of for- 
eigners to our shores. Nor do we complain at their 
coming. The desire to improve one's temporal con- 
dition is natural and commendable. At home, there was 
but little to hope for — here, there is ample opportu- 
nity. In what great numbers they have come among 
us, is well known. Thaf many of them have become 
good citizens, some of them exemplary and highly use- 
ful men, no one will deny. Nor do we, in this article, 
speak of the morals or personal habits of the great 
body of them. We are concerned with the religion 
of these people, and not with the people themselves. 
There are indi\idual Catholics whom we greatly esteem 
as good citizens and high-minded men, and most cheer- 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 163 

fully shall we seek to promote their temporal interests 
and to secure them proper respect in the community ; 
but for Catholicism we have no such regard, no matter 
by whom it is jDrofessed. We know that it is the 
enemy of Protestantism ; equally well do we think we 
know that it is the enemy of Repubhcanism : but these 
two broad principles are essential to the very existence 
of such a government as ours, so that if we would 
maintain that, we must support these : and prevent, so 
far as we can consistently, the establishment among us 
of any form of belief which is opposed to religious or 
civil liberty. 

We shall not attempt to show that the principles of 
the government of the United States are sound and 
worthy our support. We take this for granted. To 
us, they are such. We love our country and shall 
cheerfully labor to promote its best good. And we 
do this upon princi])le, as well as from personal choice. 
For the sake of our children ; for the sake of future 
generations; for the sake of those who ar» endeavor- 
ing to secure in other lands the rehgious and civil 
blessings which we enjoy in this ; for the sake of the 
poor and oppressed Avho have come to this country 
for protection, in the enjoyment of their inalienable 
rights ; for the sake of vindicating truth against error, 
and right against wrong, do w^e rejoice in every evi- 
dence of the prosperity of our nation ; in the removal 
of any form of evil by which her peace is threatened, 
and in the enforcement of any great truth by which 



164 PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

Protestantism in religion, and Republicanism in poli- 
tics, are better protected and secured. 

Our nation is jDeculiarly exposed to external influ- 
ences from the very nature of its institutions and the 
spirit which they insj)ire in the people. In foreign 
governments, changes are made but seldom, and most 
of these, if important and permanent, pass through the 
hands of the aristocracy, or other leading classes. A 
new i^rinciple in morals is received cautiously, and if 
allowed to be taught, is so watched and guarded as 
greatly to weaken its force with the many. A new 
invention in art must be submitted to the scrutiny of a 
powerful monopoly ; perhaps be crushed as an innova- 
tion to the established mode, or dangerous to the lead- 
ing interests from the general use which may be made 
of it. There the lines are already dra-vni ; habits are 
fixed; — to overcome or change, in any important 
respect, either of the leading elements in a foreign 
nation, is a difficult task. Here the case is very dif- 
ferent. Nothing is permanent with us as yet. We 
are a young nation, scarcely out of oiu- boyhood. The 
American character is not fully developed. Circum- 
stances have brought out certain traits by T^hich we 
are, as a people, distinguished. How far we shall de- 
velop these traits in our future history ,• whether we 
shall elevate them into permanent characteristics, ap- 
plicable to our entire people, or whether they shall 
become largely affected by other elements which may 
by-and-by sway the wills of the masses, the future 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 165 

alone can determine. We may say of the German 
character, it is fully developed, and it is easily de- 
scribed : but what careful thinker will affirm this of the 
American mind, and mark out the characteristics by 
which it is to be distinguished in the history of nations ? 

These facts indicate the influence exerted upon our 
people by every new principle to which they give their 
attention. It is at once a formative power. It does 
not so much threaten the existence of time-honored 
customs, or break in upon ancient usages, but it actu- 
ally creates new habits and establishes new' customs, by 
entering at once into the domain of common thought, 
and contributing to the direction of the popular will. 
How very important it is, then, that proper, and only 
proper influences should be brought to bear upon the 
minds of our countrymen — that they should be stimu- 
lated to noble deeds — that lofty motives should be 
held up before them, and the great needs of man con- 
stantly pressed upon their notice. No question which 
can influence a single mind, is unimportant in this view. 
It enters at once into the great body of thought w^hich 
is certain to find expression in corresponding action. 

Consider, also, what facilities evil has to work with. 
In some regards it has a fearful opportunity to mgra- 
tiate itself into the public esteem. The same types 
that print good books, may print bad books ; the same 
right of free speech that protects him who proclaims 
soHd truth for the upbuilding of the Kingdom of Christ, 
also protects him in the utterance of base falsehoods 



i66 PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

Ibr the maintenance of the Kingdom of Satan. What 
■higher privileges could be secured to a people who 
had reached the climax of moral and social perfection, 
than those of free speech, free thought, and " freedom 
to worship God ? " AVe do not, by any means, regret 
that such privileges are secured to all, because, on the 
whole, the balance of influence is on the side of right. 
We do, however, think it worth while to consider the 
exposure which such an elevated position involves, and 
to be always on our guard, lest these opportunities are 
abused, and the safeguards of om- freedom converted 
into a bulwark of tyranny. 

The position of our country is an exposed one. We 
are necessarily brought into contact with other nations, 
all of whom are under governments essentially unlike 
jQurs. The principles of those governments; the forms 
of thought which prevail among their subjects, largely 
influence us. They are constantly making inroads- 
upon our republican ideas, just as we are upon their 
aristocratic opinions. And if our people were not 
fully alive to this exposure, and to the necessity of 
keeping constantly in mind that republics rest upon 
the virtue and intelligence of the people, there would 
be very great reason to fear a most disastrous result 
from this familiar intercourse, especially, in view of our 
peculiar position. Be the danger from this source 
what it may, monarchical governments, as such, are 
not our chief source of anxiety. The great evil which 
most threatens our peace, comes to us in the name of 



• PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 167 

religion — the religion which most foreign govern- 
ments profess, and by which many of them are largely 
upheld. We need scarcely say that we refer to the 
Koraish Church. 

Nothing is more evident, than that a repubUc and a 
monarchy cannot Hve side by side in peace. They are 
essentially unlike. The devoted friend of one, cannot 
be a faithful subject of the other. " Either he will 
love the one and hate the other ; or he will hold to 
the one and despise the other." That such a hostility 
exists between the Catholic Church and Repubhcanism, 
we shall proceed to show. 

I. The Romish Church is in its very nature mo- 
narchical. 

We desire not to exhibit an intolerant spirit in main- 
taining the truthfulness of this position. And we take 
this early opportunity to state, what we are happy 
to know is true, that in the rm-al districts of several of 
the countries of Europe, the priests are not the friends 
and allies of monarchy. They are placed in the midst of 
the people; know and sympathize with their wants, 
and think more of the religion than of the organization 
which upholds it. They are outside of the direct influ- 
ence of the Church, and not unfrequently give their 
aid to the Hberal movements of the masses about them. 
On the contrary, all monastic institutions, and all 
churches, cathedrals, etc., immediately connected with 
these, are the direct agencies through which the papal 
power executes its decrees. The "orders" of the Church, 



168 PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

by whatever name kno"VMi, are imbued with the most 
conservative devotion to authority, and immediately 
wedded to the government. The " powers that be," 
support them in person, by their funds and favor. Any 
change in the government would be almost certain to 
be attended with loss to the Church, and hence its 
friends are the enemies of revolution and progress. The 
power of the Pope would be almost wholly destroyed, 
should all the crovraed-heads of Eurojie declare against 
his religion, wliile on the other hand, the policy pur- 
sued by the Church, the submission to authority which 
it requires from its votaries, are precisely such disci- 
pline as the temporal rulers would have to keep their 
subjects quiet. The Church and the State are thus 
similarly situated. Freedom of thought in either is 
destructive to both. The brief liistory of the Italian 
Republic may be presented as evidence, under this 
head. The people must not be educated in their per- 
sonal rights, or they will break away from these tram- 
mels of power for the agrandizement of the few. This 
the Church knows ; this the State knows. 

As a matter of fact, the Catholic Church is there- 
fore hostile to the cause of liberty. "VYe do not wish 
to make the accusation tliat CathoKcs are seeking the 
overthrow of om- government and the rum of our 
nation. Doubtless many of them love om' country, 
and would make almost any sacrifice which its good 
might require : but Catholicism, as an organism, can- 
not be the friend of our coimtry. Our form of govern- 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 169 

ment is based upon Protestantism, and Protestanism is 
the most formidable enemy that the Romish Chm'ch 
ever had. They cannot agree. The same errors and 
abuses exist in the bosom of the Catholic Church now, 
that existed there when Luther protested against its 
abominations. Indulgences are sold now as well as 
then, and in all essential particulars j^opery is the same. 
Protestantism, therefore, if true to itself, cannot look 
upon Romanism with feelings of respect, or regard it 
in any other light than a most deadly enemy. And 
can we reasonably expect the Church which never for- 
gives an enemy, to entertain a more favorable regard 
for Protestantism ? Will it ever respect the memory 
of Luther, or any form of reHgion which has grown 
out of his labors ? But, we repeat, our institutions are 
based upon Protestantism. How, then, shall the 
Catholic Church regard them with flivor? Does it 
not claim to be the only true Church? and does it not 
maintain, that the first duty of every man is to the 
Church ? Protestantism denies these claims, and has 
reared a class of institutions upon a different basis. 
How can they exist together! Harmony between 
these opposing forces is an impossibility. 

II. The practical results of Romanism are hostile 
to the interests of Protestantism. 

Catholicism is a system of forms. It does not place 
high value upon the life. Obedience to the Church is 
of more importance than social and intellectual culture. 
Hence, Romanism is not friendly to general education. 



170 PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

It would prefer, indeed, to have the masses ignorant, 
even semi-barbarous, and remain true Catholics, than 
enlightened and civilized, if thereby they should become 
Protestants. The argument presented in a number of 
Bronson's Review, fi'om the pen of the editor, is to the 
same effect. He maintains that the culture of modern 
society tends to develop human pride ; to make man 
self-sufficient, and therefore leads the mind away from 
the Church which should be its friend and councillor, 
into a general and ruinous skepticism. The Romish 
Church, for this reason, he says, cannot consistently 
sympathize with the efforts of Protestants for the ele- 
vation of the masses. There may be some force in 
this view of the subject. But if the objection rest 
anywhere, it Hes against RejDublicanism, and not against 
Protestantism. Education is indispensable to self-gov- 
ernment. If that education produce results which all 
good men have occasion to deplore, what is proved 
thereby, but that republics are the enemies of religion, 
and thus the foes of the race. This favorite argument 
with the Catholics imj^Hes, if anything, altogether too 
much. If it have any force, it is to show that Re- 
publicanism is at variance with the highest good of 
man, — a conclusion, it is safe to say, which Americans 
have not yet reached. 

The state of things highly acceptable to Catholicism 
exists in Ireland, where the Papal power is very 
strong, out of the principal cities. And what is the 
condition of Ireland — especially, what is the condi- 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 171 

tion of the Catholic population of Ireland ? Let it be, 
moreover, borne in mind that all England has done 
for th:it unfortunate country, in the way of education, 
has but widened the breach between the Saxon and 
Celtic races. The Papal power is jealous of even the 
small measure of Protestant mfluence that is exerted 
by the English Church. These are important and 
suggestive facts. But we need not go to Ireland, or to 
Italy, or any other CathoHc country for examples. 
Cases are constantly occurring in our very midst, which 
show the feelings and wishes of Homanists m reference 
to popular education. What is to be done in such 
cases — are we to allow the children of foreign parents 
to grow up in ignorance among us, and become a bur- 
den and pest to society, because their religion may be 
endangered ? A religion that will not permit its vota- 
ries to be educated, is not entitled to any special con- 
sideration. Education is indispensable to the success 
of this or any other Republic, and all our children 
ought to be brought within its influence. 

If our limits did not forbid, we should be pleased to 
present a brief outline of the teachings of history 
upon the relation of Romanism to public morals. And 
yet why need we do this ? May not all which it is need- 
ful to state, be included in a few paragraphs? Is 
not Romanism, at heart, the same at all times and in 
all places — a system of heartless formalities and super- 
stitions, exacting obedience to itself as the first and 
great consideration ? How then can it be a reliable 



172 PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

aid to public virtue ? Its aim is not to educate the 
hearts of mankind, to impose the burden of self-control 
upon the individual, by leaduig him to a knowledge of 
the great requirements of Scripture, — supreme love 
to God and the love of one's neighbor as himself. 
Italy is a Catholic country; so is France. Both are 
morally and socially corrupt. Italy, notwithstanding 
all its natural beauty, and its noble contributions to 
art, is exceedingly immoral. The people are not high- 
minded — not governed by principle. The nearer one 
gets to ISt. Peters, the worse the case stands. The 
clergy of Rome, as a class, are not men of good mor- 
als. They delude the people purposely, cheat them 
■with sham exhibitions for effect, and the people, as if to 
reward them for their wickedness, nearly forsake their 
churches on ordinary occasions. Whoever wishes to 
respect the Romish Church, had better never see 
Rome. There, where nearly every person professes 
faith in its doctrines, and is supposed to be influenced 
by its spirit, one sees but very Httle to recommend , 
and very much to condemn. If society in Rome is a 
specimen of what Romanism would have all its vota- 
ries be, the fewer of such specimens there are in the 
world, the better will it be for the happiness and wel- 
fare of mankind. 

In Germany, w'hcre the Protestant element is largely 
infused, the case is more hopeful. But Germany w-as 
the battle-ground upon which Tetzel and Luther met : 
Tetzel with his roll of indulgences, and Luther with his 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 173 

great doctrine of justification by faith alone. In this 
country, we know as yet but little of the " true 
Chm'ch;" — we have seen only the best form of 
it. Give it time and jDOwer and it ^^ill be true to it- 
self. There is occasionally a development that startles 
the people, — lilce the sujDpression of preaching against 
the Catholics in the streets of Cincmnati ; the visit of 
Bedini and the particular anxiety wliich certain leading 
politicians in the United States Senate manifested in 
his behalf — but these are only trifles in comparison 
with the results that are certain to develope themselves 
within half a century, unless in some way, the increasing 
power of this fearful despotism is successfully checked 
and the rights and duties of Protestant republicanism 
more carefully guarded. 

Having thus stated the monarchial nature of the 
Romish Church, we proceed to consider that Republi- 
canism includes witliin itself freedom of thought in 
matters of faith. Free thought and free speech are 
fimdamental to it. In the early history of our country, 
a national church was shown to be inconsistent Avith the 
general plan and purpose of a Republic. The idea of 
estabhshing one has become obsolete. Protestantism is 
regarded by all as a part of the national system. Each 
person is left free to choose his own religion, and sup- 
port that which he thinks entitled to liis favor, or sup- 
port none at all. 

History sustains the \iew which we have here taken. 
A few facts will justify the statement. England was 
12 



174 PTIOTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

subjected to the yoke of the papal church by Pope Greg- 
ory the Great, at the close of the sixth century. That 
faith continued the prevailing religion until the rupture 
between Henry the VIII. and Leo X., when England set 
up a Church of its own. The discussion which followed 
this step, aided by the position of the reformers in Ger- 
many and Switzerland, gave rise to a class of people 
called the Puritans. They took high ground. But this 
new order of things did not afford the opportunity for 
free discussion and religious growth, that was desired. 
They were restricted in the exercise of their religious 
I3ri\ileges by the special edicts of their crown. 

In speaking of the Reformation in England, Bancroft 
says, " In England, so for was the freedom of private 
judgment from being recognized as a right, the means 
of forming a judgment on religious subjects was denied. 
The act of supremacy, which effectually severed the 
English nation from the Roman See, contained no 
clause favorable to religious liberty. * * The 
King of England became the pope in his o^ni do- 
minions, and heresy was still accounted the greatest of 
all crimes." To this dictation by parliament, the Pur- 
itans would not submit. They maintained their right 
to the full exercise of religious liberty — to the privi- 
lege of reading the bible for themselves and of deter- 
mining what is truth. Nothing but the bible, they as- 
sumed, was a sufficient guide in matters of faith. Par- 
liament enacted laws, but the Pm-itans would not aban- 
don their position. What then remained for them as 



PROTESTA^TISM IN AMEEICA. 175 

true men and women, but to seek in exile the privileges 
"which were denied them at home. 

Every American should remember, and mark the 
fact, that these Puritans were the first to assume the 
right of private judgment in the interpretation of the 
scriptures. " The acknowledgment of the right of pri- 
vate judgment," says Bancroft, " so far from being the 
cause of the separation from Rome, was one of its latest 
fruits." Agaii^, he says, " The settlement of New Eng- 
land was a result of the Reformation (in England,) 
and not the contest between the new opinions and the 
authority of Rome, but of implacable differences be- 
tween Protestant dissenters and the established Angli- 
can Chm'ch." Luther and his coadjutors did not 
assume the right of private judgment in matters of 
faith. His great doctrine was justification by faith 
alone, and from tliis he argued the freedom of the con- 
science. To the church as an ecclesiasticism he was 
not opposed. The Puritans — that brave band who 
came to these inhospitable shores, in the language of 
their compact, " For the glory of God and the advance- 
ment of the Christian faith ; " who, guided by Provi- 
dence, knded at Cape Cod and settled the colony of Ply- 
mouth, — to these men belong the honor of having first 
maintained the right of this great principle. Nobly 
did they exhibit their faith in it, and their love for it, 
both by their zeal in its defence and their sacrifices in 
its appHcation. 

There is another fact of immediate importance to 



176 PROTESTAI^TISM IN AMERICA. 

this general statement. Inquiries into the nature of 
ci^il governments followed the enfrancliisement of the 
mind from reKgious despotism. Religious liberty was 
enjoyed first ; civil Hberty proceeded from it. Protest- 
antism prepared the way for Republicanism. So long" 
as the mind was held in bondage by religious orders it 
was easily enslaved by political despots ; but when it 
had once arisen to a conception of the true som'ce of 
Christian faith, and the relation of man to his Maker, 
all the " kingdoms of this world" could not tempt it 
into obedience to unjust law. 

Such is a brief history of the Protestant idea. The 
reader will observe how intimately it is related to the 
cause of political Hberty. The two are of one spirit 
and Hfe, and they must rise and fall together. They 
are both the enemies of oppression, both hostile to 
Romanism, and this hostility is most heartily recipro- 
cated. 

Two jDractical questions present themselves here. 
Admitting, says the reader, all that you affirm of 
Catholicism to be true, are we not still under obliga- 
tions to allow the behevers in that form of faith, the 
right of choice in worship? Certainly. Any other 
view is anti-Protestant. The CathoHc stands upon the 
same footing in this regard as any other religionist. 
This, however, we must re-affirm ! Our government 
is based upon Protestantism. Whatever is peculiar to 
that, must be recognized in the entire system of our 
laws and discipline. If Catholicism sets up any claim 



PROTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 177 

■which cannot be allowed without injury to that, Cathol- 
icism must be denied. The wrong, if there is any in 
this position, is in the nature of the case. We are a 
Republic. It is for the best interests of humanity that 
this form of government should be maintained. This 
Republicanism rests upon the basis of Protestant Chris- 
tianity. That must also be sustained. These two are 
one. Just the same Aiew should we take of Maham- 
medanism. The followers of the Prophet of Mecca 
have a right in this country, if they choose to come ; 
but, if they do so, they shoidd conform to our laws and 
customs. Polygamy w^e should not allow them to prac- 
tice, even if they urged this right in the name of the 
Prophet, and backed it by a quotation from the Koran. 
So of an evil nearer home — Mormonism. The social 
and civil MTongs of that system are to be treated in 
the same way. If the Mormons come within our ju- 
risdiction they must be obliged to conform to our 
accepted rules of right. There is no broader liberty 
consistent with equity and prudence. Freedom is not 
lawlessness. RepubHcs are based upon acknowledged 
princijjles : those principles must be insisted upon and 
carried out in practical Hfe. Fm-thermore, the whole 
people must be educated in those ideas, and taught to 
regard them as of binding importance. In no other 
way can the existence of a free government be perpet- 
uated. 

And this introduces the other question which we 
proposed to notice, viz., the use of the Bible in our 



178 mOTESTANTISM IN AMERICA. 

Public Schools. Our views upon this subject must be 
already indicated to the reader. We would by no 
means have the prejudices of CathoKcs unnecessarily 
disturbed, neither would we purposely irritate the feel- 
ings of skeptics; and there may be individual cases 
where it would be better not to have the Bible used 
at all, but the right to use in our Schools the only 
genuine version of the Bible now in general use, is too 
manifest to our mind to require further proof. If pre- 
judices are disturbed, that is the misfortune of the case 
and cannot be helped. To remove the Bible from our 
Public Schools is to yield the question to the opposi- 
tion. That American Protestants will never do. 

The great question of all history is to be decided upon 
American soil. Is man capable of self-government ? 
Republicans desire to hive this question answered in 
the affirmative ; — those in every land who have caught 
the spirit of freedom sympathize with them in this 
important issue, and are ready to poiu' out their blood 
and money in the great cause of human Hberty. 

But aristocrats, and their supporters, those who 
claim to rulaby divine right, or by ecclesiastical suc- 
cession, — these, and the friends of despotism in every 
form, are interested to have this question decided in 
the negative. Consider, reader, the earnest appeal 
which this tremendous issue makes to you as an indivi- 
dual. Be fiiithful to your country and your God. Let 
your watchword be Hepublicanism and Protestantism * 
One and inseparable — now and forever. 



A NATIONAL ANTHEM. 



BY MRS. M. A. WHITAKER. 



God of the nations, hear us ! 

And make the feeble strong ; — 
Our songs of glad thanksgi^dng, 

To thy great name belong. 
Loud, loud Ave'il swell the anthem, 

High, high our voices raise ; 
Columbia's sons and daughters, 

Your Guardian Ruler praise ! 

Come, brothers, never falter — 
Jpin, sisters, heart and hand, 
Round Freedom's sacred altar, 
Our OAvn dear Fatherland ! 

Praise to the Lord Almighty ! 

His wonderous power proclaim, 
Who led the exile Pilgrims 

Across the pathless main ; 
That Truth might soar unfettered 

On swift and daring Ming, — 
And to this home of Freedom 

Her grateful tribute bring. 



180 NATIONAL ANTHEM. 

Come, brothers, never falter — 
Join, sisters, heart and hand, 
Kound Freedom's sacred altar, 
Our own dear Fatherland ! 

He blessed our Patriot Fathers, — 

He was their strength and shield, 
When Right uprose triumphant. 

And bade Oppression yield ; 
Firm on the " Hock of Ages," 

Though Passion's storm raged high. 
They stood in Faith, midaunted, 

Their watchword " Liberty ! " 

Come, brothers, never falter — 
Join, sisters, heart and hand. 
Pound Freedom's sacred altar. 
Our own dear Fatherland ! 

Thou, by whose inspiration, 

Brave thoughts and deeds have birth. 
Whose piercing eye illumines 

-The darkness of our earth : 
Breathe on each kindling spirit. 

Pour down thy holy light, — 
So shall the flame of Freedom 

Still burn divinely bright. 

Come, brothers, never falter, — 
Join, sisters, heart and hand, 
Romid Freedom's sacred altar, 
. Our own dear Fatherland ! 



NATIONAL ANTHEM. 181 

Proudly our country's banner 

Waves over land and sea — 
God ! may its stars shine brighter, 

Our people all be free ! 
Haste the day's glorious dawning, 

When wTong and strife will cease, 
And ransomed millions echo 

The Angels' song of "Peace." 

Come, brothers, never falter, — 
Join, sisters, heart and hand, 
Round Freedom's sacred altar, 
Our own dear Fatherland ! 



THE TRUE HEART. 



BY ELIZABETH DOTEW. 



The rooks went cawing home to their nests, and the 
evening star shone like a little moon amid the crimson 
glories of the sunset, when Nelly Fljim raised the bun- 
dle of grain to her head wliieh she had gleaned that 
day in the broad harvest fields of Castle Kearney, and 
turned her steps homeward. The sharp stubble and the 
borders of the miry peat bog were crossed vath. the same 
light step, for Nelly's feet were not cumbered \Nith 
shoes, or her mind with care, and she went humming 
along, with many a skip and jump, until she came to a 
Httle stile by the roadside. Here she threw down her 
bundle and resting upon the stile commenced faiming 
herself with her hat. 

As she sat thus, the fair Lady Isabel, of Castle 
Kearney, rode by on her little white pony, accompanied^ 
by several servants. She turned her face with a pleas- 
ant smile toward Nelly, and kissed her hand as she 
passed. Poor Nelly's happy heart jfluttered like a caged 
bird within her, and she called upon all the saints in 




^.Jtk£>]g^"K 



THE TKUE HEART. 183 

heaven to bless the dear lady. And no wonder, for a 
kinder, lovelier, gentler being never Kved ; and a blessed 
thing would it have been for the poor had her surly 
old husband been of a like nature ; but the Lord of 
Castle Kearney was knoAMi the whole country round as 
a hard-hearted, grasping, miserly man, who counted 
every pemiy, and claimed his due to the uttermost 
farthing. His tenants were of the most abject and 
vicious class, for between him and Father Malone, the 
^^llage priest, they fared very hard. Not having scarce 
a morsel left for their own mouths, they were obKged 
to resort to all means, save honest ones, to keep life- 
in their bodies ; and the Lord of Castle Kearney found 
that traps, and watch-dogs, and game-keepers could 
not hinder frequent incursions and trespasses upon his 
property. He would gladly have rid himself of them 
altogether, but he cared not to come to open hostilities 
with such a belligerent crew, and so matters grew worse 
every day. 

Michael Flynn, the father of Nelly, had been con- 
sidered the most trustworthy and industrious man of 
this class, and had won much confidence from the Lord 
and his Lady. But since the death of his wife, a pe- 
riod of about a year, he had taken to strong drink and 
bad company. The little cabin which he occupied, and 
the bit of ground in the rear, already bore striking 
evidence of this change in his habits. Nelly grieved 
much over this, but she did not sit down in despair- 
She was a stout girl of eighteen, and she put her own 



184 THE TRUE HEART. 

hand to the v»'ork with a right good will, keeping en- 
tu-ely aloof from the idle, brawling women, with their 
dirty children, who swarmed about then- cabin doors, 
and who never failed, upon any favorable opportunity, 
of giving vent to their envy and spleen against Nelly, 
in language highly offensive to the poor girl's delicate 
«ense. 

There were several reasons for this bitterness of feel- 
ing. Nelly's mother was a woman of pm-e English blood, 
and had managed before her death, to give her daugh- 
ter a very good education. The lady Isabel regard- 
ed the motherless girl with especial favor, and Father 
Malone frequently honored the cabin of Michael Flpm 
with his presence, sometimes sitting down with them to 
their evening meal of milk and potatoes, or occasionally 
taking a drop of whiskey with the old man, wliich was 
considered the liighest evidenc of his friendship. In- 
deed, he seemed to feel almost a fatherly soKcitude for 
the welfare of Nelly, and she seldom went out or re- 
turned from her labors without meeting hun, and re- 
ceiving from him words of kindness and encouragement. 
He was a middle-aged man, with a fair, full forehead, 
and a keen dark eye, indicative of a good intellect and 
much shrewdness. Otherwise, his appearance was not 
at all prepossessing. A large, red nose, full cheeks, 
a thick, short neck, and a gross bodily foundation, be- 
trayed a laxity in the observance of penance, fasting 
and prayer, so closely enjoined in the rituals of the 
Romish Chm*ch. 



• THE TRUE HEART. 185 

It SO hajjpened this veiy evening, as Nelly Avas rest- 
ing upon the stile, that he came and sat down beside 
her, and as he laid his hand on her head with a blessing, 
he told her that he had a weighty matter in his heart, 
of ■which he must speak to her very shortly, that night, 
perhaps, and he wished her to prepare herself by med- 
itation and prayer, to listen to him seriously. He left 
her, and Nelly took up her bundle and thoughtfully 
pursued her way homeward, wondering greatly what he 
could mean. 

As she came near her home, she heard her father 
trolling out an old song, in a very loud voice, and she 
knew w^hat to expect, for jNIichael Flynn never sung 
save when he was tipsy. Whiskey always made him 
very talkative and good natured. Upon entering, she 
found him sitting in liis old arm chair before the peat 
fire, with his feet elevated upon the chimney piece. In 
one hand he held a large mug of w'hiskey, and in the 
other a pipe, alternately taking a drink from one and a 
whiff from the other, and singing at intervals by way of 
further variety. He was evidently enjoying all the 
happiness of wliich he was caj)able. 

" Arrah, darling ! " he exclaimed, at the appearance 
of Nelly, " it's right glad I am that you've come, for 
I've bin having sich a good time all to myself, that I'm 
well nigh tired of it. Here's a health to you," and he 
took a long draught from the mug. 

" Oh, father ! " said Nelly, reproachfully, but kindly, 
" why is it ye must always be in drinli. ? " 



186 THE TRUE HEART. 

« 

" Och, Nelly mavounieen," he replied, " it's not in 
clriiilc that I am, but the drink that's in me. A bit of 
fresh wather smelling a little strong of whiskey is all 
that I'm taking myself to at present. I knew you 
would be coming, so I put on the paraties to boil, and 
then sat mesilf down to meditate, and sing a Httle to 
dhrive away care." 

Nelly glanced into the kettle over the fire. The 
water boiled finely, but not a potatoe was to be seen. 
She went out and dug some, milked Brindle, fed Judy, 
the pig, spread the table, and then sat down by the fire 
to await the boiling of the potatoes. Meanwhile, the 
old man had grown still merrier and more talkative. 

" Nelly," said he, " it's a heavy secret I have knock- 
ing at the door of my heart, and I fear it will spake it- 
self out in spite of me ; but his riverance, Father Ma- 
lone, has tould me to say niver a word about it to ye, 
* for ' says he, * unless she hears it in the right way, it 
will go hard M'ith her, and she niver will consent at all 
to go to Ameriky with the rest of us.' " 

" To America ! " exclaimed Nelly, whose attention 
was now fully aroused. 

" Arrah, botheration ! How is it that ye're knowing 
it, when I've niver even tould it to me-silf ? It's the 
divil tells such things, for he always goes about with 
open ears, and a ready tongue ; but the thafe, there is 
no truth in him, for as his Riverance says, he was ' the 
father of lies from the beginning,' yet nivertheless, 'tis 
to Amerilvy we are going, every mother's son of us, 



THE TRUE HEART. 187 

you and I and Father Malone, and all the rist of the 
lazy beggars, who are good for just nothing else at all." 

" Are ye sure it's the truth ye are telling, father ? " 
said Nelly, anxiously. " An' will ye go away to that 
wild western world and leave your old home, and the 
blessed earth that rests on the bosom of my dear moth- 
er ? Will ye go where there's never a soul cares for 
ye, and lay your old bones to rest in a land of strangers, 
where the angel of the resurrection will never find ye ? 
Where would ye like most to be when the cold hand 
of Death is on ye, and its darkness in your eyes ? I 
tell ye the soul of my blessed mother would go waiKng 
up and down in the earth like a wandering banshee, if 
ye could not make your grave beside her." 

" Howld ! Howld ! " exclaimed the old man, as he 
sat down his mug — " it's my heart that runs out of 
my eyes," and he brushed away the tears with his 
sleeve. " Divil a bit will I go to Ameriky, let Father 
Malone and Tim Croghan, and Judy O'Mulligan say 
what they plase. Here's a health to ould Ireland, for- 
ever ! " and he strengthened his resolution with another 
draught of whiskey. 

" And how is it," asked Nelly, " that Tim Croghan 
and Judy O'Mulligan, and all the rest of them who 
never saved a penny in their lives, expect to get to 
America ? " 

" Well, now," said the old man, " seeing that ye know 
all about it, I'll just tell ye. It was only this afternoon, 
as I sat alone -with Tim Croghan, and the rest of the 



188 THE TRUE HEART. 

boys, sunning oui'selves in the shade of Teddy O'Fog- 
herty's cabin, and dhrinking now and then a drop of 
the crayther jist to kaj)e our sphits up, then along comes 
Father Malone, and, says he, without spakeing another 
word, ' I've something to tell ye ; ' and so ivery one of 
uh, as was able, got up and took off our hats to his riv- 
erance." 

" ' Sit down,' said he, ' and howld your tongues. 
You must know that the Lord of the Castle has had a 
letter from his second cousin in Amerlky, and he says 
that it is a great counthry, where the smi never sits, 
the paraties are as big as yom* head, and you can pick 
up gowld in the strates. That it is a free counthry, 
where every man can do as he plases if he pays for his 
sins and the praist is willing. That the Amerikins are 
very benivolent, and if a man comes without a shoe to 
his foot, or a rag to his back, they will howse liim and 
tend him like a new born baby, will give him a plenty 
to ate and to drmk, and clothes to wear ; and if he dies 
he will have dacent bm-ial. And he says, if there are 
any dh'ty thaves or beggars, or rascals, or any too lazy 
to work, they had best come over and help make laws 
for the counthry, and bring the praists with them, that 
the Howly Church may be built ujj among the heretics, 
and a Httle leaven will soon leaven the whole lump.' 
That's just what Father Malone towld us." 

" ' Now,' said liis riverance, * the Lord of Kearney is 
a true son of the Church, who fears God, and serves 
his Holiness the Pope, and he has promised to pay 



• THE TRUE HEART. 189 

down the gowld for ye, if ye choose to go to the new 
counthry. It's jist I that am going, and if ye know 
what's good for ^'ourselves ye'll all go with me. God 
bless ye — amen.' And thin he went his way. " 

" Tim Croghan, the thafe, could scarce wait for his 
riverance to sjDake the last word, when he threw up his 
old hat that has navther cro\\Ta nor rim, and cried out, 
* whoora ! ' and all the rest of the boys set to, a knock- 
ing each other down, out of sheer good nature, and 
Judy O'AIulIigan on the strength of it drank a whole 
bottle of whiskey, and it's lying now dead dhrunk that 
she is behind Teddy O'Fogherty's cabin. Och, thin, 
it's a good thing that Ameriky is a great counthry, or 
there'd be no room for so many dirty thaves and ras- 
cals. And, Nelly, mavourneen, when you and I and 
Father INIalone once get there, it's by om*selves that 
we'll be, and we'll Hve in peace and contintment, with 
plenty of pipes and whisky. So here's a health to 
Ameriky forever ! " and he drained the contents of his 
mug to the bottom. 

Poor Nelly said not a word for she saw the matter 
was already decided. She folded her hands quietly 
and looked into the fire, while now and then a tear 
stole gently down her cheek. The potatoes boiled 
finely, hopping one over another in the kettle, but all 
thoughts of supper were banished from her mind. Her 
father fell asleep in his chair, and his loud snoring at 
length aroused her from her reverie. She had hardly 
taken up the potatoes and placed them smoking hot 
13 



190 THE TEUE HEART. 

on the table, with the very scanty portion of milk which 
Brindle had allowed them, when the door opened and 
Father Malone entered. 

" God bless you, my cliild," he said, as he laid his hat 
and staff in one chair and seated himself in another, 
" Have you not feiken your supper yet, Ellen ? '' 

" No, sir," she replied meekly. " Will it plea.se you 
to mof e up and take a bit ? It's but httle we have, 
but sure that little ye are right welcome to." 

With a sigh he turned his eyes towards the table. 

" It's fasting and praying I have been the whole of 
the day," he answered, " and perhaps a Httle nourish- 
ment will be good for me." 

" Without waiting for further invitation, he drew his 
chair to the table, and in a short time every drop of the 
milk, and most of the potatoes had vanished before 
him. With another long dra^Mi sigh he patted his 
hand mth much satisfaction upon his broad chest. 

" Ellen, my child," said he, "just pass me a glass of 
whiskey and water, if you please, that I may be strength- 
ened to tell you what I wish." 

Ellen did as she was desired, and as he took the 
glass from her hand, it occurred to her for the first time, 
that he bore a striking resemblance to the great clumsy 
watch dog at the Castle. She was startled at her own 
wickedness, and feeling almost as guilty as if she had 
spoken her thoughts aloud, she made haste to seat her- 
self again by the fire. 

After having amply satisfied his carnal nature, Fath- 



THE TRUE HEART. 191 

er Malone placed his chair beside her, and took her 
hand in his. 

" Ellen, my child," said he, " my heart is drawn 
toward you with a fatherly affection, and there is noth- 
ing I desire so much as your spiritual good. Perhaps 
your father has told you that v/e are all about to start 
for America." 

Nelly silently nodded assent, but her lips quivered 
so with suppressed emotion, that she dared not trust 
herself to speak. 

*' Doubtless," he continued, " with your strong love 
of home and country, it will require a great sacrifice of 
feeling on your part, but it is in this way that God tries 
the affections of his children. A great work lies before 
you in America. Are you not willing to do all you 
'jan to serve the Church, and build up our holy rehgion 
in the midst of heresy and opposition ? " 

Again Nelly nodded assent. 

" Listen, then. You are old enough to understand 
me, and I have always observed that you were thought- 
ful beyond your years. A great many of our people 
have emigrated to this new country, and the number is 
constantly increasing. Om- poor are fed and sheltered, 
and supported by the Americans ; — they help make 
the laws of the land, and are equal in power with those 
who are born upon the soil. They are well paid for 
then* labor and are fast spreading themselves abroad 
all over the country. But our religion is in danger, for 
the Americans, being a free people, will not only think 



192 THE TEUE HEART. 

as they please themselves, but will lead others to do so. 
They oppose our faith, they are growing bitter against 
our people, and they speak irreverently of his Holi- 
ness, the Pope. Our cliildren are in the schools, and 
are taught dangerous heresies ; and the Bible, which 
none but the priests can read aright, is placed in their 
hands that they may be wholly turned against the 
truth. The kinsman of the Lord of Kearney has 
looked well to this and sounded the alarm. He bids 
us send over more priests, and teachers also, that we 
may have our own schools, and our children may be 
brought up in the true faith. Now, my child, your 
mission is before you. I trust that your blessed moth- 
er and I have not labored in vain to give you an edu- 
cation which has raised you so far above the common 
people around you. You are well quahfied to enter 
upon this work, and you must not hesitate, but go 
straight-forward to your duty. Thus will you secure 
for yourself continual favor with the most Holy Mary, 
mother of God — the full remission of your sins, and at 
last be welcomed by all the saints in glory to a life of 
eternal blessedness and joy. What do you say to all 
this?" 

Father Malone, aside from liis animal passions and 
grossness, was a man of no mean intellectual attain- 
ments. Added to this, was a natural shrewdness which 
looked deep into human nature, and could calculate ef- 
fects long before the acting cause was set in motion. 
He miderstood well the girl's truthful nature, and he 



^ THE TRUE HEART. 19S 

gpoke wisely when he appealed to her feelings in the 
name of reason and religion. As he proceeded, she 
had become more and more earnest and interested ; her 
hand tightened its clasp, and her large dark eyes were 
fixed intently upon him. 

" May God forgive me ! " she exclaimed, as he ended, 
" that ever I spoke aught against it. It's but Httle I 
can do, but sure I am ready to lay down my life for the 
truth." 

" God bless you ! " said Father Malone, as he encir- 
cled her with his arm. " I knew you had a true warm 
heart, my child, and that you would not disappoint 
me." 

The poor girl shuddered. She knew not what spirit 
of evil it was, that just then reminded her again, so 
strongfy, of the likeness his reverence bore to the great 
dog at the Castle. Indeed, she could not help it. She 
instinctively withdrew herself from his embrace, and as 
her father at the same moment awakened and began 
to bestir himself, she turned her attention to the fire, 
and went out to get more fuel. Father Malone, for 
the sake of friendship, took a few glasses of wliiskey 
with the old man and then departed. 



194 THE TRUE HEART. 



CHAPTER II. 



It was a clear, bright morning in October, when the 
emigrant ship, New World — Capt. Seymour — set 
sail from Cork. Never, at wake or wassail, was a 
greater clamor raised than at this parting of near and 
dear friends. The old and the young were there — the 
halt, the maimed and the bhnd — •' the poor, the mis- 
erably poor, and the utterly destitute ; sent out from 
their own country to gain a scanty subsistence by beg- 
gary, or theft, in a li^id of strangers. Lamentations, 
poured forth in all the native eloquence of that rude 
brogue, sometimes expressed in the most touching and 
poetic language, were accompanied by tears and em- 
braces, and the drinking of whi.skey, which served to 
palliate the effects of excessive grief. And, at last, 
when the anchor was weighed, and the ship was gliding 
swiftly through the blue waters, old hats and handker- 
chiefs, and garments of every description, were dis- 
played by the group of miserable beings upon the 
deck, as the last parting sign of affection. Highly 
conspicuous among these tokens were Tim Croghan's 
striped jacket and the red blanket of Judy O'Mullighan, 
which were not withdra^Ti till the freshening breeze re- 
minded the owners that these articles of apparel would 
add much to the comfort of then' persons. 

Nelly Flynn, with a pale face and eyes swollen with 
weeping, sat apart from the others upon a Httle trunk 



♦ THE TRUE HEART. 195 

which contained all her earthly possessions. Her fath- 
er, entirely exhausted by the active part he had taken 
in the farewell scene, to which also was added the ef- 
fects of whiskey, had thrown himself down upon a coil 
of rojDes where he lay fast asleep. 

As far as possible, Father Malone had obeyed the 
Scripture injunction, " comfort ye my people ; " and in 
so doing, he had been mindMl that he also was a suf- 
ferer, and he administered solid consolation to himself 
in the shape of bread and potatoes, and a generous al- 
lowance of whiskey ; after which he seated himself be- 
side Nelly to strengthen her with spiritual truths and 
promises of a happy future. But it was not long be- 
fore his inner man was greatly disturbed ; for nature, 
without respect to persons, had commenced the initia- 
tory process of a sea-faring life, and he was urged to 
a hasty surrender of the creature comforts with which 
he had refreshed himself. The complaint soon became 
general, and poor Nelly was fast yielding to the un- 
pleasant sensation, when a loud outcry from her father 
called her to his side. 

" Och, murther ! " he exclaimed, " it's dying I am 1 
Howld on to me, for it's naythur up nor down I can go, 
but both ways at once. Jist stop if ye plase, and take 
me back to ould Ireland, and I'll niver set foot upon 
the sae again till the day of my death and afther ! " 

The poor old man was extended upon the deck, his 
face pale as ashes, and the perspiration which fear had 
called forth, standing in great drops upon his forehead. 



196 THE TRUE HEART. 

All TV'cre too busy with their own troubles, to render 
assistance to their friends, and therefore Nelly was 
left alone to care for her father. As she-knelt beside 
him a sense of her loneliness came oyer her, and she 
burst into tears. 

A hand was laid gently on her shoulder. 

" Can I do anything for you, my poor girl ? " said a 
pleasant female voice. ^ 

Nelly looked up in astonishment and beheld a tall 
lady with very beautiful eyes and a lovely countenance, 
bending over her. She knew in a moment it must be 
Mrs. Seymour, the Captain's lady, who usually accom- 
panied him, and the first glance assm'ed her that she 
might rely upon her goodness. 

" Thank you, ma'am," replied Nelly, " it's a bit lone- 
ly, and frightened, and sick that I am> and if ye'll just 
please tell me what to do, I'll take it right kindly of 
you." 

" Frank," said the lady to the first mate, who was 
standing near, " can't you order up a mattress fot the 
poor old man ? " 

The young man, thus addressed, turned carelessly 
round. 

*' Aunt Mary," he repHed, " I am afraid you will find 
it a poor place to care for one among so many." But 
as he spoke, a glance at Nelly's anxious face, and her 
" please sir, won't ye ? " — uttered so meekly, — quite 
changed liis mind, and the mattress was brought. 

" lie is rather old to leave his countrj^, I should 



THE TEUE HEART. 19T 

t hink, and hardly able to bear the fatigue of a sea voy- 
age," said Mrs. Seymour, kindly. 

" Yes, ma'am," replied Nelly, " liis health is very 
poor, and he has had several ill turns of late. What 
with sea sickness and home sickness, I fear it will ga 
hard with him, and sure I don't know what will be- 
come of me if he dies," and again the tears stole down 
her cheeks. 

" Never fear, my good girl, but keep up a cheerful 
heart," said the kind lady. " You may always be sure- 
of a friend while I am able to help you ; " and the very 
manner in which she spoke these simple words, did 
more towards comforting the heart of the lonely girl,, 
than all the prayers which Father Malone could offer 
for her. 

Li a few days, Michael Flynn was enabled to get 
about once more among his former companions ; but it 
was evident that his heart was in old Ireland. He en- 
tirely lost his appetite ; and even whiskey, that match- 
less sanative for all his ills — in this instance failed to 
cheer him. His old friend, Tim Croghan, had relapsed 
into a moody silence, and Judy O'Mullighan, who had 
always been the Hfe of a good time, wrapped herself in 
her blanket and took possession of a corner, from 
whence she succeeded in being as unapproachable as a 
porcupine. 

Scarce a week had elapsed, when the ship fever 
broke out among the miserable beings, and many of the 
poor sufferers, crossed over the Jordan of death into a; 



198 THE TRUE IIEAHT. 

new country, where there was " bread enough and to 
spare." Among the first of these victims was Michael 
Flynn. 

"Och, Nelly, mavourneen! " said the old man in a 
feeble voice, as he lay upon his mattress on the deck, 
one pleasant evening — " it's the day of my death that's 
come, and I'll jist be afther spaking a few words to 
Father Malone, that I may die with a clane breast." 

Mr. Ellison, the first mate, who through his relative, 
the Captain's lady, had become greatly interested in 
the old man and his daughter, went to summon the 
priest. He found him rolled in his blanket and snug- 
ly stowed away in his berth, from which he refused to 
rise under any considerations, declaring that his health 
and safety depended upon keeping entirely apart from 
those infected by disease, and that it was by no means 
his duty to throw away the life which God had given 
him. 

With this uncourteous refusal, the kind-hearted man 
returned to the sufferer. 

" Och, thin, it's like a haythen I must die," mur- 
mured the old man. " May the Lord have mercy on 
my soul ! " 

'• Can't ye pray for him, Mr. Ellison ? Won't ye ? " 
said Nelly, as she looked up in his face with an ex- 
pression of unutterable anguish. 

Without a moment's hesitation, he removed his hat, 
and kneehng upon the deck, he poured forth a prayer 
such as could come only from an earnest and a feel- 



THE TRUE HEART. 199 

ing heart. At the sound of his voice, the Captain and 
his lady, and many of the sailors gathered around, all 
of whom were aifected to tears by the prayer which was 
offered in so much sincerity of feeling. 

" God bless ye !" exclaimed the old man as he ended j 
" A dale asier can I die for that. It's very Idnd to me 
ye've all bin, and if ye'U jist be aftber sjiaking a kind 
word to Nelly now and thin, when I am gone, my heart 
will be at rest within me." 

With his last remaining strength he raised himself, 
and leaning upon Nelly's shoulder, looked far out where 
the feathery foam curled in the white w^ake of the ship. 
Beyond, lay the home of his childhood, where his heart 
turned back Tsith its last fond memories. 

" I shall niver see ye, again, dear old Ireland," he 
mm-mured, and with one long, expiring sigh, he sank 
back lifeless upon his pillow. Poor Nelly fainted on 
the deck, and was borne away by the sailors to the 
state room of Mrs. Seymour. 

Before morning, the body of Michael Flynn was 
committed to the great deep, while Nelly lay upon her 
couch below, tossing in the deHrium of a fever. Un- 
der constant watcliing, and the best of care, however, 
she soon began to recover. As Mrs. Seymour con- 
versed with her daily, she became more and more as- 
tonished at her refinement and intelligence. She in- 
quired concerning her past histor}-, and what she in- 
tended to do on reaching America. Nelly, in the sim- 
pKcity and innocence of her heart, told her all, even to 



200 THE TEUE IIEAET. 

the plans which Father Malone had laid of her becom- 
ing a teacher, and miiting her feeble influence with that 
of many others, to aid in the advancement of the Cath- 
oHc faith in America. The lady listened with eager 
interest to this, and then called in her husband and 
nephew that they might hear it repeated by Nelly's 
ovm lips. 

" Did I not tell you so ? " said Mrs. Seymour to her 
husband. " I wonder how long it wll be before our 
people can be made to see tliis secret influence which is 
creeping in so silently, and endangering the liberty of 
our country and its free institutions." 

Captain Seymour was a thoughtful man, and a true 
patriot. From the first, he had been greatly interested 
in this poor orphan gM, and now he felt that he had a 
very important reason for being so. 

" Nelly," he said, after a few moments silence, " I 
have no one save my wife and myself in the wide 
world to care for. Now, if you would Hke to become 
as a daughter to me, I mil do all I can for you ; and if, 
•when we arrive in America, you still have a desire to 
teach, I mYl help you to do so. But, Nelly," he added, 
with a look full of meaning, " there are many things I 
"want you to learn first." 

" Sure, sir !" she replied, while her face flushed with 
emotion, " It's much too kind you are to me ; but if ye 
wish, I will do all I can to serve you in my poor way, 
and will carry an open heart to learn all you can teach 
xne." 



, THE TRUE HEART. fOl 

That night they all united in the family sendees. 
The Captain read a chapter in the Bible, and the young 
man prayed. As the time passed on, Mrs. Seymour 
lost no opportunity of instructing Nelly in the truths of 
the Gospel, concerning which she had so long been 
kept in ignorance, and as she won more and more of 
her confidence, she put into her hands, books exposing 
the iniquities and abominations of the Romish Church. 
At first the poor girl trembled and dared not trust her 
own judgment, but by degrees she gained courage, and 
at length entered into an examination of the subject 
with eager mterest. The result was all that her friends 
could have wished, and while Father Malone slumbered 
comfortably in his berth, or regaled himself upon bis- 
cuit and cheese, he had lost the most efficient instru- 
ment with which he had intended to prosecute his 
labors m America. 



CHAPTER III. 

After a long and tedious passage, the New World at 
length cast anchor in Boston harbor. It was just at the 
dawning of day, and the stars had hardly begun to 
grow dim in the sky, but even at tliat early hour the 
whole party of emigrants, young and old, were upon 
the deck,,with their rags fluttering in the wind, anx- 
iously straining their eyes to catch a glimpse of the 
land of promise. Father Malone had also arisen, and 



202 THE TRUE HEART. 

after dressing liimself with unusual care, he tapped 
gently at the door of Mrs. Seymour's room, and desired 
to speak with Nelly alone, a few moments. His 
request was granted. As Mrs. Seymour left the room, 
he entered, and found Nelly sitting by the centre table, 
above which hung a lamp, whose mild light as it shone 
upon her jDale sweet face, gave her a look of angelic 
loveliness. He took her most cordially by the hand, 
and seated himself beside her. 

" Ellen, my child," said he, " it has been a long time 
since we met last, but I thank God that the prayers 
which I have daily offered for you, have found accept- 
ance, and that you have been preserved from sickness 
and all the dangers of the deep. Now, if there is 
aught that lies heavy on your soul ; if there is any 
secret sin of which you have need to repent, speak it 
forth freely, that j-ou may receive a full pardon, and the 
blessing of God may rest upon you in the commence- 
ment of your enterprise." 

Nelly's face grew much paler, but she fixed her eyes 
upon his countenance with a steady, earnest gaze, in 
which her whole soul was revealed. 

" Father Malone," she replied, " I have no confession 
to make." 

He shook his head doubtingly. 

" I fear, my child," he said, " that you are in an 
error, and in the secrets of your heart your carnal 
nature yet cherishes some sin which it is loth to bring 
to the light. Look well to your soul, lest in your hard- 



THE TRUE HEART. 203 

ness of heart, God should remove himself far from 
you." 

" God has been very near me of late," said Nelly, 
with a tearful eye. 

" Ah, yes ! my child. He has seen fit to afflict you, 
and in my soul I suffered much for your sake, praying 
night and day that it might be sanctified unto you for 
your sjDiritual good." 

" And indeed it has," she repKed, " for a Hght has 
beamed in upon my darkened soul, which otherwise I 
should never have seen. Now I place all my confi- 
dence in God and my Saviour, and I make known the 
secrets of my heart only to them, for I know now that 
no man on earth hath power to forgive sins, and there 
is only one Mediator between God and man — the man 
Christ Jesus." 

Father Malone's eyes opened wide with astonish- 
ment. " Where," he asked, with much severity, " have 
you learned such speech as this ?" 

" Here," said Nelly, as she laid her hand gently on 
the family Bible. " Since this was first placed m my 
hands 1 have studied its pages day and night, and I 
have not feared to do so, for there I found the words 
of Jesus, saying, " Search the Scriptures, for m them ye 
think ye have eternal life, and they are they which 
testify of me." 

It was almost impossible for Father Malone to con- 
trol himself. He laid his hand with a firm grasp on 
her arm, and looked her steadily in the face. " Who 



204 THE TRUE HEART. 

has led you into this damnable heresy ?" he asked in a 
suppressed tone. 

" If you mean to ask," replied Nelly, " who have 
taught me these truths, I will say, I learned them from 
those who comforted me in affliction, when all other 
friends failed me." 

" Yes ?" he added, " and have almost wrought your 
eternal ruin. Ellen Flynn, I doubt that all the 
penance, and fasting, and prayer which I must offer for 
your sake, will be sufficient to save your soul from the 
consequence of this fearful sin. Perhaps, even now, 
the spirit of your departed father is suffering indescri- 
bable torments in the fires of purgatory, because of 
yoiu' transgression. Repent then, before it is too late, 
for it may be that pardon can yet be secured by humil- 
iation and prayer, and a renewed consecration of all 
your powers to the service of our most holy CathoHc 
Church." 

"I no longer believe in the holiness of that Church," 
said Nelly, " for here," she continued, as she laid her 
hand on the books she had perused carefully, " I have 
read the history of all its abominations, and my heart 
is wholly turned against it." . 

" What !" exclaimed Father Malone, as he sprang to 
his feet in an ungovernable rage, " shall one of the 
anointed priests of that Church be told to his face that 
it is an abomination, and that too by a weak, ignorant 
female ! Never shall such words be spoken in my pre- 
sence lightly !" and he shook her so violently by the 
arm that she uttered an exclamation of terror. 



, THE TRUE HEART. 205 

In an instant the door was thrown open, and Captain 
Seymour, with his wife, and Mr. Ellison made their 
appearance. 

" Stand back," said the Captain calmly, but in a tone 
of authority. " I have taken tliis young woman under 
my special protection, and as far as possible I shall 
guard her against all things which may serve to disturb 
her peace." 

" Not so ;" replied Father Malone angrily. " She is 
mine. I claim her in the name of the Holy Church to 
which she belongs, and from which you, sir, by calumny 
and lies, have endeavored to seduce her." 

" And I," said Frank Ellison, as he stepped forward 
and laid his hand on her shoulder, claim her by virtue 
of the promise which she has made me to become mine 
until death shall part us. Therefore I stand here, sir, 
as her chosen protector, and wo be to the man who 
shall dare lay his hand rudely upon her." 

Father Malone was stupefied with amazement. He 
saw that he held a very disadvantageous position, and 
that prudence demanded a retreat, but how it could be 
done honorably was not quite so clear. 

" Sir ;" said the Captain, after a few moments of 
awkward silence, I think it would greatly relieve your 
embarrassment should you leave the room, and we 
shall most certainly be obliged to you if you will relieve 
us of your presence." 

Father Malone was very much confused. He made 
a most ludicrous attempt to smile — hummed a few 
14 



206 THE TRUE HEART. 

notes of the " Dies Irae," and then walked out of the 
room, looking extremely foolish. 

That night several strangers came on board and 
there was a bridal in the cabin, which made Nelly 
Flynn the happy -wife of Frank Ellison. 

After the lapse of sometliing more than a week, the 
New World was brought to the wharf, and the ragged 
representatives of the Romish Church, the future law- 
givers of America were landed in the El Dorado of 
their hopes, homeless and friendless, to beg, or starve, 
or steal, or earn their living by honest industry, as the 
case might be. Father Malone, their spiritual head, 
very prudently separated himself from their company, 
and went no one knew whither. He has been heard 
from but once since, and then he was passing several of 
the summer months at a fashionable resort on Deer 
Island, where doubtless he had the pleasure of renewing 
his acquaintance with several of his scattered flock, and 
enjoying with them all the delights, wliich the place, 
■with its numerous facilities, affords. • 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 



BY REV. E. H. CHAPIN. 



But, fellow-citizens, the great Revolution Tihich was 
consummated by that armed array, and by that act of 
Declaration, was not the product of twenty years or 
of twenty centuries, of mere outward historical trans- 
actions. Event'', are only the shells of ideas ; and often 
it is the fluerit thought of ages that is crystalized in a 
moment by the stroke of a pen or the point of a 
bayonet. In the minds and hearts of those Revolu- 
tioiiary heroes — in the deep current of those Revolu- 
tionary events — there worked an idea, not new by any 
means ; but still, for reasons which I shall give, I call it 
the American Idea. It had its sanction, and its first, 
clear, consistent utterance, as I believe, in the oracles of 
Christianity. It found a sanctuary in the breasts of its 
early saints and martyrs. It passed out in the world 
and struck the chord of political action as it blended 
with the spirit of Teutonic independence. It flourished 

* Extract from an oration delivered in the New York Crystal 
Palace, July 4, 1854. 



208 THE AMERICAN IDF^. 

well in England, and found utterance in Parliament and 
from Tower-Hill. The cavalier bore it in his haughty 
consciousness to his new home in Virginia. The Hol- 
lander accepted it in his stm*dy Republicanism. The 
Puritan brought it in the May-flower, and planted it on 
Plymouth Rock. Indicated now and then by some 
isolated enterprise or sharp event, its influence was 
silently engendered in a people's history, until at length 
its latent electricity broke out in one quick blaze from 
line to line, in one long roll of drums, from Lexington 
to Yorktown. I find that Idea at the core of all De- 
mocracy ; I find it at the heart of our national organ- 
ism ; and without it Democracy would be only a name, 
and our nationaHty illegitimate. That idea, fellow 
citizens, is the spiritual iDortli of every man ! 

That I may not seem to be presenting you with a 
bit of transcendental philosophy instead of historical 
fiict, let me call your attention to the manner in wliich 
this Idea of the worth of the individual, the spirit ^^al 
dignity of man, was expressed in the course of tl}e 
Revolutionary struggle. The prevalence of any great 
conception is more strikingly manifest in the general 
flow and tone of a people's thought than in any specific 
utterance. We see, then, that it has descended from 
the region of abstract speculation, and become a recog- 
nized and practical fact. I find the spirit of this Idea 
prevalent, I would say then, in the first place, as I turn 
over the pages of the tliinkers and writers of that 
period. In doing so, my eyes rest upon the satisfac- 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 209 

tion "with which Benjamm Franklin, in one of his letters, 
states^ that " It is a common observation here (in Eu- 
rope) that our cause is the cause of all mankind, and 
that we are fighting for their Hberty in defending our 
own. It is a glorious task," says he, " that is assigned 
us by Providence." I detect the same thought in the 
words of Alexander Hamilton : " All men," says he, 
" have one common original ; they participate in one 
common natm'e, and consequently have one common 
right. No reason can be assigned why one man should 
exercise any pre-eminence over his fellow-creatures, 
unless they have voluntarily vested him with it. No 
man in his senses can hesitate in choosing to be free 
rather than a slave." This is the key-note in the fol- 
lowing language of Jefferson : " These are our griev- 
ances, wliich we have thus laid before his Majesty with 
that freedom of language and sentiment which becomes 
a free people, claimmg their rights as derived from the 
laws of nature, and not as the gift of the Chief Magis- 
trate. Let those flatter who fear j it is not an Ameri- 
can art. They know, and will therefore say, that kings 
are the servants, not the proprietors of the people. If 
our winds and waters should not combine to rescue 
their shores from slavery, and Gen. Howe's reinforce- 
ment should arrive in safety, we have hopes he will be 
inspirited to come to Boston and take another drub- 
bing ; and we must drub him soundly before the scep- 
tered tyrant will learn we are not mere brutes to crouch 
imder his hands, as the kind rod with which he designs 



210 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

to scourge us." And still again, the same Idea, as we 
might well expect, finds expression in the words of 
^Yashington, addressed to Bryan Fairfax : " What is 
it," says he, " what it is we are contending against ? 
Is it against payhig the duty of three pence per pound 
on tea, because burdensome ? No, it is the right only 
that we have all along disputed. * * * If j -^ere 
in any doubt as to the right which the ParHament of 
Great Britain had to tax us without our consent, I 
shovdd most heartily coincide with you in opinion that 
to petition, and petition only, is the projicr method to 
apply for relief; because we should then be asking a 
favor, and not claiming a right, which hy the law of 
nature, and by our constitution, we are, in my opinion 
indubitably entitled to. I should even thuik it crimi- 
nal to go further than this, under such an idea ; but I 
have none such. I think the Parliament of Great 
Britain have no more right to \)\xi their hands into my 
pocket, ^^ithout my consent, than I have to jjut my 
hands into yours." How refreshing these strong, bold 
words are — words that mean something — words that 
come pouring do"UTi from those heights of jDatriotism 
upon our mean politics and our shifty statesmanship, 
like a cataract. This was the Idea of the Revolution 
as expressed in its deepest thought. And it must be 
recollected that it was an Idea which first roused our 
forefathers to action — not a material acquisition. Re- 
sistance for the sake of a principle, in the minds of 
most of them, at least, preceded the notion of actual 



# THE AMERICAN IDEA. 211 

separation from Great Britain and of National Inde- 
pendence. And that -which was a pervading con- 
ception in the thought and the writing of the time, was 
manifest in the very character and Kves of the men of 
the Revohition. The men of the Revokition ! those 
who left the standing corn and the plow mid-furrow, 
and seized the weapons mth which they had fought 
against ISIontcalm and Pontiac, to battle for the cause 
of freedom. Men of elastic muscle, and dauntless 
bearing, and mother- wit. As they rise up before us, 
nothing strikes us more impressively than their indivi- 
duahsm and their sense of personal independence. 
These traits had been fostered by every cii'cumstance 
of early education and of local position. Their religion 
threw them upon the basis of personal conscience, theii* 
politics had been tramed in town meeting, and in the 
field they " fought on their omii hook." It was the 
man of this class whose " ruling passion," as Bancroft 
says, " was to be a fii'eeholder," and M'ho " coveted the 
enjoyment of perfect personal freedom in the compa- 
nionship of nature." The authority of royal mandates, 
the terrors of border warfare, could not shut him out 
from the wilderness, and from that life of adventure in 
which self-consciousness and self-reliance are speciallv 
developed. In the primeval forest he learned great 
first principles and a contempt of mere conventionaH- 
ties ; while the march of individual enterprise and 
achievement was proclaimed, in the sound of his axe 
and the crack of liis rifle, from the woods of Penobscot 



212 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

to the valley of the Mississippi. Such, then, were the 
pervading thoughts and such wSre the living men of 
the period of the Revolution. Therefore we are not 
surprised that at length this Idea of personal worth, of 
individualfreedom, culminated and blazed in that bold, 
distinct sentence which this day has been read in your 
ears : " We hold these truths to be self-evident, that 
aril men are created equal, and are endowed by their 
Creator with certain inaHenable rights." Nor do we 
wonder that this Idea triumphed, as it did, in the result 
of the Revolution. 

I call it " The American Idea," and yet I have said it 
is no new idea. I call it the " The American Idea" in 
the same sense as that in which I call the reaping- 
machine, or the cotton-gin an American idea ; meaning 
thereby not only a j)rinciple, but a principle embodied 
and working to the best results. If you look around in 
this Cyrstal Palace and select the most modern or orig- 
inal invention you can find, you may trace in it, fila- 
ments of thoughts that are older than the pyramids ; 
and, perhaj^s, some working prmciple that was known 
to Tubal Cain. Yet you will accord the honors of 
invention to whomsoever has disentangled a great idea, 
and embodied it in a more efficient form, or has so 
adjusted a working-princii)le as to make it produce its 
best results. Now Hberty itself is an old fact. It has 
had its heroes and its martyrs in almost every age. 
As I look back through the vista of centuries, I can see 
no end of the ranlis of those who have toiled and 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 213 

suffered in its cause, and who wear upon their breasts 
its stars of the Legion of Honor. There was Grecian 
Liberty, and there was Roman Liberty — Grecian and 
Roman Republicanism. And certainly there was a 
frame-uwrk of Liberty. But everybody knows that 
ancient freedom was not hke om: modern, not like our 
American freedom. It was a freedom of cities ; not of 
huge masses and territories. It was the freedom of 
the citizen rather than of the individual. Then Chris- 
tianity came into the world, and introduced that grand 
working principle of liberty which I have just enun- 
ciated — the doctrine of individual, spuitual worth — 
which runs beyond the barriers of race, and finds a 
deeper foundation than the standards of ethnology. I 
do not mean, then, that the American Idea is original, 
either as presenting the first form of organized liberty, 
or as an abstract working principle. Nor is it so merely 
as the combination of that principle with an organized 
form. To say nothing of others, we owe a great deal 
to England, and let us never grudge the confession. 
Let us be thankful for so many of our fibres that have 
grown out of its heart of oak, and for so many of our 
household associations which were cradled within its 
sea-beaten walls. Land of Shakspeare and of Milton, 
whose inspirations make a flood of common thought ; 
in the reservoir of its constitution we willingly recog- 
nize, also, head-springs of our common freedom. It 
-was natural that we should spurn the hand that 
oppressed us — it was quite a family trait. It was 



214 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

legitimate blood that mounted to cheek and eye when 
the statutes of King George were melted into bullets 
and tea-boxes floated in Boston harbor. They were 
ancestral tones that mingled "in the battle-shouts under 
the smoky vails of Saratoga and Monmouth. When 
we thinli. of Morgan's riflemen and Stark's Green 
Mountain Boys, we readily think, also, of Cromwell's 
Ironsides ; and we are willing that Elliott, and Pym, 
and Russell, and Hampden, and Sydney, should stand 
in illustrious companionship with the great men who 
signed our Charter and bled u^jon our fields. 

But, fellow-citizens, it is the man who makes the best 
application of a working-principle who is entitled to the 
honors of invention. And our claim is that we have 
made a better application of the great worldng-principle 
of Liberty than England has. In order to do this, we 
had a new, broad field, clear of all feudal rubbish. We 
had the advantage of experience. We had the best 
results of the old civilization to incorporate in the new. 
The ripest seeds of Eurojoean fi'eedom, shaken by the 
hand of oppression and wafted by the winds of persecu- 
tion, were borne to these shores, and furnished mate- 
rial. And so, in constructing a new national system, 
we gave more prominence to this principle of indivi- 
dual worth and right. As has been well observed, " we 
incline less to the historical element than the English 
do, and more to the ahstract. We conceive of the 
rights of the citizen more as attributes of his human' 
ity.^' Now, fellow-citizens, into the great Crystal 



THE AMEEICAN IDEA. 215 

Palace of History, whose contributions consists of facts 
and princiiDles, I bring this machine of ours — I bring 
it into the Exhibition of the Industry of all Nations, a& 
patented by John Hancock and the under-signedj. 
stamped with thirteen stars, bearing date 1776 ; and I 
claim for it the title of " The American Idea." Here- 
it stands, and in this great arena of History it willi 
stand, in the front rank, and forever. 

But to justify this claim, we must not merely 
describe the machine, but see what it produces. I 
mean, what it ought to produce — what it was meant 
to produce — what it inevitably will produce, when it 
is in good worldng order. Or, to drop the metaphor 
which this place so naturally suggests, let us proceed 
to consider what grows legitimately out of the Amer- 
ican Idea. 

In the first place, then, it is e\ident that out of it 
grow the best forms of personal freedom, culture and 
power. One of these is universaHty of political privi- 
leges — the possession by every man of the sacred 
rights of citizenship, not because of the height of his 
station, or the weight of his purse, but by \irtue of his. 
intrinsic manhood. For, according to this idea, the 
mechanism of the State is not merely for classes, or' 
for property, but for the great interests of the whole 
and the true interests of the individual. That which 
weighs in one man's hand just as much as in another's j. 
which concentrates the humblest expression of opinion,, 
and makes it felt in Cabinets and Senates, is the BaU 



216 THE AMERICAN IDEA. 

lot — which is especially a symbol of the American 
Idea, because that Idea alone requires it to be universal. 
And another result of this fundamental system is Pub- 
lic Education; the duty of the State not to enforce 
but to provide knowledge for all — to scatter the seeds 
of truth even more solicitously than it crushes the fruits 
of crime ; and to open to the poorest the domain of 
thought and the possibiHties of honor and virtue. The 
American Idea is embodied m the Public School, and 
it will be a dark day when the sentiment of the Amer- 
ican people sets against it, or the hand of jealous bigot- 
ry is permitted to strike it from the catalogue of our 
possessions. And still another result of this great 
principle is Freedom of Conscience, and all that per- 
tains thereto — freedom to worsliip God in solitude or 
in crowds, by liturgies, or with silence — freedom of 
thinking — freedom of speech : a freedom, let me say, 
that is violated by ignorant denunciation as much as by 
the wheels of the Inquisition ; violated by calumny as 
cruelly as by the stake. 

I am well aware, fellow-citizens, that this is a re- 
capitulation of very familiar things — and you ought 
to thank God that they are familiar ; but I am desu'ous 
that you should see clearly that this idea of the worth 
and right of the individual man hes at the core of 
them all, and, therefore, when this idea is dishonored 
upon any one point, the entire organism of our national 
privileges is stricken with heart disease. 

I may say, however, that all these specific instances 



THE AMERICAN IDEA. 217 

are involved in the general statement that the American 
idea provides for the free action and development of 
every man. In the very personality of a man, it re- 
spects that " image and superscription " of God which 
distinguishes him from all other beings ; respects his 
right — unless comdcted of aggression against the com- 
mon right — to free circulation in the currency of the 
universe with his own Kmbs, mind and soul. O, it was 
worth years of revolution, with all the suffering and 
the blood ; worth your precious heart-drops, O, martyrs 
of Lexington ; worth your cold and hunger, O, soldiers 
bf Valley Forge ; worth your prayers, O, Washington, 
when gloomy clouds hung round the tents of our Israel ; 
it was worth all this to vindicate and achieve the great 
fact that a man is priceless ; and that poised on the 
axis of personal responsibility — Hmited by nothing 
but the curve of moral law — he belongs only to God. 
It was worth all the cost and struggle to consummate 
a system in which, primarily, the man does not exist 
for the sake of the State but the State for the sake of 
the man. 



THE DUTIES OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 



BY A. D. CHALONER, M. D. LATE U. S. A. 



At no period of our country's history, has there been 
a greater necessity for the influence of the women of 
America to be exerted than the jDresent. 

Fanaticism in its protean forms, has lead astray many 
from the true simplicity, which distinguished the men 
and women of the Revolution, when we looked to our- 
selves, and the means of exciting and keeping alive 
those feelings wliich nerved the men of Bunker Hill, 
and supported Marion and his gallant band in the 
" Sunny South." 

Nov/ our fair countrywomen read only French novels, 
and discourse learnedly on the latest fiishions fi'om 
" dear Paris," and leave poHtics to their husbands and 
male relatives. 

Some few join in the cry for " Woman's Rights," 
while they are lamentably ignorant of the duties of 
wife and mother. 

We are not of the number who "desire to make 
woman a mere machine, or household drudge. The 



THE DUTIES]^OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 219 

Creator has endowed her with many and rare faculties, 
and placed her beside man to be his adviser here ; — to 
aid him with her single heartedness, to refine and pu- 
rify for a holier and a happier state, the rough and 
sterner sex. 

A "wife can by her judicious conduct, elevate her hus- 
band — a sister's influence save a brother, and make 
pleasant the declining days of her aged father. 

In the earHer struggles of om* country, to throw off 
the galling yoke of foreign oppression, the women of 
the Revolution stand forth like stars in the firmament. 
Look at the words on a monumental slab in " Old Do- 
minion " — To " Mary, the mother of Washington ! " 

What emotions at once arise ? — the history of that 
mother and her parental influence and care, in after 
times, resulted in the formation of a mind, who in all 
the relations of life, justified the remark of this estim- 
able matron, when Lafayette congratulated her, in 
Washington's elevation to the Presidency, that " George 
was always a good son ! " 

Upon the women of America, there is a great re- 
sponsibility, — their fathers, husbands and brotheri?, 
throwing aside mere party ties and alliances, are rally- 
ing to the rescue of our beloved country from the thral- 
dom of " party," which, for the sake of office and its 
spoils, would sell our bhth-rights to foreigners for a 
" mess of pottage," and inflict upon us the blighting 
curse of political sectarianism. 

The common schools are threatened by designing 



220 THE DUTIES OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 

hands, who seek to control the mmds of American 
children, to remove the Bible from the schools, and by 
ostentatious parade of sisters of charity — to lead away 
Americans from their secret ends, the control of our 
native land and her institutions. 

Women of America, are you jjrepared to submit your 
inmost thoughts to the confessional ? Are you ready 
to act as the spy upon your relatives and friends, and 
beheve all " out of the Faith," lost forever, and shut 
out from Heaven itself by the dictation of a ghostly 
adviser ? 

We seek not to thrust you into the stormy arena of 
politics, or conventions, but we wish you to act as 
mothers and daughters of America — teach the young 
to look at the men who framed our Constitution and 
Declaration of Independence — read to them the lives 
of our patriot sires ; — tell them that the women of 
America, in " times gone by," refused to drink taxed 
tea, and wore linsey woolsey garments in] place of 
foreign garbs. 

V Tell the young, over whom you have influence, that 
the man who loves party and foreign votes better than 
America and her institutions, is not worthy of your 
countenance and thought, still less to be the husband 
and protector of a daughter of America. Read and 
study well our country's history, and recollect that 
'* Foreign chimes do not sound so well ui Liberty's 
Bell!" 

In no country have women more influence than in 



221 THE DUTIES OF AMEHICAN WOMEN. 

our own. Now, while we write, and old Europe is en- 
gaged in wars for the " balance of power," we are en- 
gaged in rallying to the defence of the rights of Amer- 
ican born, against the " insidious wiles of foreign in- 
fluence." 

Napoleon, the conquerer of the old world, dreaded 
the pen and influence of one talented woman in the Ht- 
erary world, more than the thunder of the artillery of 
his foes; and when for the sake of ambition he de- 
serted Josephine for the Austrian, the star of his great- 
ness sank forever ! 

" Land of the West ! though passing brief the record of thine 

age, 
Thou hast a name that darkens all our history's wide page ! 
Let all the blasts of fame ring out — thine shall be loudest far ; 
Let others boast their satellites — thou hast the planet star i 
Thou hast a name whose characters of light shall ne'er depart ; 
'Tis stamped upon the dullest brain and warms the coldest 

heart ; 
A war-cry fit for any land where freedom's to be won ! 
Laud of the West ! it stands alone — it is thy Washington ! " 



15 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF MISS JANE M'CREA. 



BT C. R. A.. 



The following lines were suggested by visiting the 
spot of the mm'der of Miss Jane M'Crea, near Fort 
Edward, N, Y., which occurred during our revolutionary 
struggle, in July, 1777. This young lady was betrothed 
to Captain David Jones, of the British army, who sent 
a party of Indians to escort her to his quarters. 

Greatly against the wishes of her friends, she placed 
herself under the care of this treacherous escort, and 
the party set forward, with Miss M'Crea on horseback, 
and proceeded about half a mile from Fort Edward, 
and then halted at a spring, upon the side of a hill, to 
drlnlc. Her anxious lover, in the mean time, had dis- 
patched a second party of Indians on the same errand. 
Unfortunately the parties met at the spring, and a col- 
Hsion ensued ; in order to obtain the jDromised reward, 
which is said to have been a barrel of rum. Durmg 
the fight, both j^arties W' ere attacked by the whites, and 
at the close of the conflict, the young lady was found 
tomahaw^ked, scalped, and tied to a pine tree near the 



. LINES ON THE DEATH OF MISS JANE M'CREA. 223 

spring. Tradition reports that the scalp was taken and 
carried by one of the Indians to the wretched lover, 
who afterwards lost his reason, and died broken-hearted. 
There still remains a portion of the trunk of the pine 
tree, but it is rapidly diminishing, as each traveller, who 
visits the spot, takes a piece as a memorial of the tragic 
scene once enacted beneath its branches. 

Here, by this bright and never fading spring, 
Still pom'mg its pure waters as of yore ; 
"Where the gray eagle spreads no more his wing, 
The war-song and the war-whoop sound no more — 
Beside the trunk of this primeval pine. 
Whose branches sheltered long ago this spot. 
Where grev/ the wild flower and the running vine, 
Twining sweet garlands for the forest grot, 
I stop to ponder and to muse alone — 
Sad are the thoughts which rise within the mind, 
Sad, recollections of the years long gone. 
Are here with every stirring leaf entwined. 

Soft sleeps the moonlight on the misty hill. 
The shadows linger in the slumbering vale. 
While far beyond the mountains, gleaming still, 
The fading flambeaus of the twilight trail. 
Sweetly the solemn h3,rps of the dim woods, 
Touched by the invisible fingers of the winds, 
Breathe forth sweet music — while the sun oft floods 
The moimtain clifls, and with its glory binds. 



224 LINES ON TIIE DEATH OF MISS JANE M'CREA. 

In golden wreaths, each crag and lifting peak, 
Gleaming around the solitary tree, 
That spreads its branches on the hill top bleak. 
The steadfast sentinel of a centui'y. 

Star after star is born amid the skies, 
The mists lifts lightly on the distant hills, 
Summer is breathing her sweet symphonies, 
All nature with her inspiration thrills. 
Was it on such a peaceful night, I ween, 
That the doomed heroine, whose tale I sing. 
With trembHng heart looked forth upon the scene, 
Beneath this tree — beside this welling spring — 
With love's inspiring rapture in her soul. 
Yearning with all its depth and deathless power — 
Beyond the strength of pleading prayer's control, — 
The fear of death — all perils of the hour ? 

Vain is the question — we may neVer know — 

All scenes to her were merged in that one thought, 

Which linked two trusting hearts for weal or wo — 

Two loving souls into one being wi'ought. 

The world without was merged with that within — 

Twas love's electric power that won her soul — 

Earth had no more for her to lose or win, 

She was a captive to its sweet control. 

The night with all its perils had no fears — 

One j)rayer — one deathless joy — one yearning thought 

Bom of true love — nurtured in hoj^e's sweet tears. 

Were through her soul undyingly inwrought. 



LINES OX THE DEATH OF MISS JANE M'CRKI. 225 

The tawny savage listened at the door, 

As Jane's loved mother counselled her to stay : 

" Oh ! go not daughter — we may nevermore 

See thy sweet face — oh ! go not thus away ! " 

But all m vain — she started with her guide, 

Well mounted on her steed, leaving behind 

All that she worshipped in her childhood's pride. 

Tears filled her eyes — sighs mingled with the wind, 

As the last sad adieu to all was given ; 

But hope survived — love gave redoubled strength, 

Her trust reposed on liim she loved and Heaven, 

And tears and sighs and sorrows ceased at length. 

As the sweet vision of the coming meeting 

Rose in her mind, and banished all her fears. 

The embrace, the kiss of love, the rapturous greeting, 

Wliich was to be baptised in Joy's delicious tears, 

Drove every care away — resolved each thought 

Into one deathless hope, which in her heart. 

By love's sweet inspiration was inwrought. 

Binding her soul to his, no more to part. 

Bufah ! fair girl, thy visions now must close, 

Here, by this spring, beneath this wasting tree, 

Her Indian party halted to repose. 

And drink the waters gusliing fresh and free. 

But to my tale — in yon sweet vale below. 
Still stands the childhood-home of Jane M'Crea, 
And near it still the Hudson's waters flow, 



226 LINES ON THE DEATH OF MISS JANE M'CREA. 

Lili.e a broad belt of silver to the sea. 
Sweet Jane, true-hearted, lovmg and the loved, 
Spent her young girlhood by its i)ebbly shore, 
Gathering its keepsake-shells as there she roved, 
For loved remembrances when there no more — 
Wandering by stream and valley, o'er the hill, 
Treading with step elastic as the roe ; 
Gathering the green flags, as with graceful skill, 
Along the stream, she plied the Hght canoe. 

As years rolled on, the din of war was heard, 
The ratthng drum and fife — the soldier's tread — 
Drowned the sweet morning carol of each bird, 
As to the forest depths it frightened fled. 
The dark eyed stranger came, her father's guest ; — 
He smiled with love — her guileless heart was won - 
And to his bosom fondly was she prest, 
Wliile rang the war-whoop and the booming gun. 
Brief was his stay, and soon the parting came, 
Sad was the horn*, and bitter were the tears ; 
And brighter burnt within love's sacred flame, 
And wildly throbbed her heart with hopes and fears. 

As the last echo of his footsteps fell 
Upon her Hstening ear, and he was gone — 
Within her heart still echoed the farewell, 
Wliich for a moment turned it into stone. 
She sfrained her eager eye — she bent her ear, 
And in an agony of silence hstened still, 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF MISS JANE M'CREA. 227 

But not an echoing footstep could she hear, 

No shadowy form could see ujDon the hill. 

Long, long she stood and gazed in silence there, 

Upon the forest and the midnight sky, 

Still as a marble statue of despair, 

While sorrow's tears seemed frozen in her eye. 

But gazing, hoping, praying, could not bring 
Unto her heart that worshipped form again, 
Although she watched till birds upon the wing 
Began to sing the day Hght's sweet refrain. 
Days fled — at last the wished for mission came ; 
An Indian guide was sent by her betrothed. 
One who had hunted the wild forest game. 
And knew the paths that led to him she loved. 
He came with others of his savage tribe. 
To guide the maiden through the tangled wild 
To him, who waiting for his coming bride. 
Impatiently the weary hours beguiled. 

Meanwhile another rival tribe here sought. 

The maiden, with intent the bribe to gain — 

They met in hatred, and Avith madness fought. 

Till many were the wounded and the slain. 

Wild rose the war-whoops, and the tomahawks gleamed ; 

On death- wings, swift the Indian arrows flew, 

While blood and brains along the pathway streamed, 

Flecking the leaves, moist with the evening dew. 

Amid this awful carnage, one fierce chief. 



228 LLSES ON THE DKVTH OF MISS JAInE M'CREA. 

Rushed to the spot where, horror-struck, aghast, 
Sat Jane, a frozen statue in her grief. 
All hope of succor then forever past. 

Upraised his bloody hand, "with one fell blow, 
The murderous blade was buried in her brain — 
One maddening shriek, and one convulsive throe, 
Was heard, and seen, as the fair girl was slain. 
Then the fierce demon, while his victim breathed. 
Seized liis broad knife and scalped her lovely head, 
And as her dappled locks his hand enwreathed, 
Away exulting to her lover fled. 
Swift as upon the winged winds he flew. 
Whirling the bloody locks in fierce delight, 
Till at the feet of him who waited — down he threw 
The reeking trophy of his savage fight. 

The lover gazed in horror and despair. 

Until his brain was darkened into night, — 

lie spoke not as he Idssed the gory hair. 

But his heart broke before the maddening sight. 

No more sweet dreamings of his coming bride, 

Refreshed his heart or throbbed it with delight ; — 

No more hope's future with its golden tide. 

Beamed on his vision beautiful and bright. 

Lost to himself — the world — his love — to all — 

He Hved the wasting wreck W'hich fate had made, 

His lost one answered not his maniac-ca-ll, 

Nor heard his broken-hearted prayers for aid. 



THE SPIRITiOF EREEDOili. 



BY C. 3. MACREADING 



The human mind gives the strongest evidence of its 
exalted nature, in its aspirations after independence, and 
its maddened restiveness under the shackles of op- 
pression. As the eagle, fitted to soar in the highest 
regions of the atmosphere, spreads his massive pmions 
in noble flights, under the dictation of his own inclina- 
tions, and when ensnared, beats with fm-y against the 
bars of his prison-house, resolute to be free, — so the 
spirit of man, destined to inconceivable attainments in 
knowledge, purity and truth, in a state of freedom, 
rapidly advances to a high and noble elevation; but if 
fettered by despotism is impatient of restraint, and res- 
olutely seeks to overcome the obstacles to its progress. 
This is the history of man since liis creation. At 
times he has sunken low under the crushing oppression 
of arrogant ambition or crafty intrigue, till seemingly 
his desires have been satisfied with the base and sensual 
enjoyments of servitude, but again rising to a sense of 
his true character, he reasserts the claim to jfreedom 



230 THE SPIRIT OF FREEDOM. 

and self government. It is deeply interesting to con- 
template the struggle between the people and their 
oppressors, both in Church and State, especially since 
the commencement of the Christian era. Till this pe- 
riod, with occasional glimmerings of light, the masses 
were held in darkness by the king and the priest, but 
subsequently, the intervals have been much briefer be- 
tween the efforts at deliverance. And now, in the nine- 
teenth century, the population of the globe is moved 
as the interior of a volcano, to obtain for itself the right 
of self government and independent institutions. Dis- 
regarding the reverence paid to antiquity and the in- 
fluence of hoarded wealth, the people now demand a 
voice in electing their rulers and regulating their civil 
expenditures, besides a freedom to worship God, not 
according to hierarcliical formulas, backed by govern- 
mental power to enforce conformity, but according to 
the dictates of a scriptm'ally enlightened conscience. 
Religious freedom Hes at the foundation of all civil Hb- 
erty. Wherever there exists independence in religion, 
civil independence will not long lag behind. On this 
account it is, both in ancient as well as in modern times, 
among Pagans, Cln'istians, Mahommedans, religious in- 
stitutions have been linked in with the civil, that the 
rulers might by the former more surely maintain the 
latter. Hence, as long as bishops, priests and ministers 
are dependent upon the State, there is but httle fear 
that they will not seek to maintain and support its 
usurpations. Under such circumstances revolutions 



THE SPIRIT OF FEEEDOM.^ 231 

are exceedingly diiRcuIt, and when occurring are but 
spasmodic in their character, which, subsiding, leave 
the people seemingly in a more hopeless condition. 
England owes her free institutions, doubtless, to her re- 
ligious freedom. It is true, she has a State religion;, 
but dissent from it is a perfectly practicable matter;, 
and the EngKsh people dispose of themselves as they 
please, in respect to rehgion, without becoming obnox- 
ious to governments. Italy, on the other hand, presents- 
the most degrading picture of human debasement in 
every j)oint of view, because the Pope of Rome ar- 
rogantly claims to decree what liis people shall believC;. 
as to a religious faith, and how they shall be governed. 
He thus anniliilates all freedom and reduces his sub- 
jects to the mere automaton condition of slaves. 

In the United States is presented a scene unparalleled 
in the history of nations. Keligion recognized as the 
solemn concern of individual man 's\ith his Creator, is 
left to the freest option of the people. From our- 
State flows no golden stream to nourish and maintain 
a priesthood or ministry. For all tliis we have no 
lack of churches or of clergy. But because of tliis we 
are the freest people in the world with all om- imper- 
fections and inconsistencies. We claim — under the 
sanction of the Almighty — fi-eedom to tliink, freedom 
to utter our thoughts, and freedom to act as v/e shall 
choose. The Bible lies on our national altar, an open 
book for all to read and study. Our common schools 
open their doors to all cliildren without distinction, and 
the State cheerfully and hberally support them. The 



232 THE SPIRIT OF FREEDOM. 

right to utter our sentiments by speech and the press 
is steadily maintained and watched over with the most 
wakeful jealousy. Freedom was the grand rallying 
cry of the nation when first she uttered her voice 
among the rulers of the earth. She unfurled her ban- 
ner to the breeze on which she had marked but one 
word, Libertj\ Such is her war cry to-day. And it is 
on this account she has risen up in her strength to put 
do\vn at once and forever all foreign influence, especially 
that emanating from the Roman Church. It is not the 
religion of this Church which is so violently opposed, 
but her civil and political ambition. And this must 
be done, if we would maintain the institutions of a 
free and independent country. 

The Koman Church is no friend to the doctrine of 
self-constituted government. She is an enemy to 
human equality, freedom of thought, liberty of action. 
She steadily opposes popular education, the enlighten- 
ment of the masses, and the general diffusion of intel- 
ligence. She scouts the idea of a common school, 
where, independently of priestly or sectarian domina- 
tion, all children are brought to a common level, and 
youths of different religious beliefs mingle freely to- 
gether. She declares " liberty of thought a pest of 
all others most to be dreaded." She is intolerant and 
persecuting in her very natm-e. Her influence, where- 
ever extended, tends to poverty, ignorance, and most 
degrading superstition. She substitutes for the word 
of God the word of man ; forbids and hinders the cir- 
culation of the Bible, and at all times and everywhere, 



THE SPIRIT OF FREEDOM. 233 

seeks to root out true piety. Her history is written in 
the condition of every country and people ever sub- 
jected to her sway. 

For these reasons, the political advancement of the 
Papal Church is to be regarded with a just dread by 
the people of this nation. For if she once gain 
ascendancy here, she boldly declares, " farewell to civil 
and religions Hberty." 

What shall Protestant America do ? Shall she 
cower and shrink before this growing force, or meeting 
it boldly at the outset, hurl back the audacious preten- 
sions of the Papal Power ? Does not the spirit of our 
Fathers, those noble men who participated in the strug- 
gles of the Revolution, call upon us to united action 
against tliis foe ? Do not the bloody persecutions 
of this cruel church come up m remembrance to quicken 
us in our efforts to resist her ? AYhat says the spirit 
of freedom within us ? At all hazards, put down this 
foe of man and of God. Leave her fi'ee in her re- 
ligion, but do not allow her wicked hands to hold the 
reins of our government in any respect. 

"We are told that the Papal Church is not in this 
country what she is in Italy, m Mexico, in Spain, in 
Canada. And why is she not ? Does she not claim 
unity, infallibility, unchangeabiHty ? She does all this. 
And are we to be deceived by external apj)9arances ? 
She may have outwardly the sheep's clothing, but 
within she has the wolf's heart. Americans! guard 
yourselves and your children from the deceptions of 
this daring, hypocritical foe to Human Freedom, 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS. 



BY JOHN PIEEPONT 



The Pilgrim Fathers, — where are they ? 

The wares that brought them o'er 
Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray 

As they break along the shore : 
Still roll in the bay, as they roll'd that day 

When the Mayflower moored below, 
When the sea around was black with storms. 

And white the shore with snow. 

The mists that wrapp'd the Pilgrim's sleep, 

Still brood upon the tide ; 
And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep. 

To stay its Avaves of pride. 
But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale 

AVhen the heavens look'd dark, is gone ; — 
As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, 

Is seen, and then withdrawn. 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS. 235 

The Pilgrim exile, — sainted name ! 

The hill, "whose icy brow 
Rejoiced, when he came, in the morning's flame, 

In the morning's flame burns now. 
And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night 

On the hill-side and the sea. 
Still lies where he laid his houseless head ; — 

But the Pilgrim, — where is he ? 

The Pilgrim Fathers are at rest j 

When summer's throned on high. 
And the world's warm breast is in verdure dress'd, 

Go, stand on the hill where they He. 
The earHest ray of the golden day 

On that hallow 'd spot is cast ; 
And the eveinng sun, as it leaves the world, 

Looks kindly on that spot last. 

The Pilgrim spirit has not fled ; 

It wallcs m noon's broad light ; 
And it watches the bed of the glorious dead, 

With their holy stars, by night. 
It watches the bed of the brave who have bled, 

And shall guard tliis ice-bound shore. 
Till the waves of the bay, where the Mayflower lay, 

Shall foam and freeze no more. 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 
September 17, 1796. 



Friends arid Fellow- Citizens : 

The period for a new election of a citizen to admin- 
ister the executive government of the United States 
being not far distant, and the time actually arrived 
when your thoughts must be employed in designating 
the person who is to be clothed with that important 
trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may con- 
duce to a more distinct expression of the public voice, 
that I shoidd now ajoprize you of the resolution 1 have 
formed, to decline being considered among the number 
of those out of whom the choice is to be made. 

1 beg you, at the same time, to do me the justice to 
be assured, that tliis resolution has not been taken with- 
out a strict regard to all the considerations appertaining 
to the relation which binds a dutiful citizen to liis 
country ; and that, in withdrawing the tender of ser- 
vice, M'hich silence in my situation might imply, I am 
influenced by no diminution of zeal for your future in- 
terest ; no deficiency of grateful respect for your past 
kindness j but am supported by a full conviction that 
the step is compatible with both. 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 237 

In looking forward to the moment which is to termi- 
nate the career of my pohtical life, my feelings do not 
permit me to suspend the deep acknowledgment of 
that debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved 
country for the many honors it has conferred upon me ; 
still more for the steadfast confidence with which it has 
supported me ', and for the opportunities I have thence 
enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment, by 
services faithful and persevering, though in usefulness 
unequal to my 2eal. If benefits have resulted to our 
country from these services, let it always be remem- 
bered to your praise, and as an instructive example in 
our annals, that under circumstances in which the pas- 
sions, agitated in every direction, were liable to mislead, 
amidst appearances sometimes dubious — vicissitudes 
of fortune often discouraging — in situations in which 
not unfrequently want of success has countenanced the 
spirit of criticism — the constancy of your support was 
the essential prop of the efforts, and a guaranty of the 
plans, by which they were effected. Profoundly pene- 
trated with this idea, I shall carry it with me to the 
grave, as a strong incitement to unceasing wishes, that 
Heaven may continue to you the choicest tokens of its 
beneficence — that your union and brotherly affection 
may be perpetual — that the free constitution which is 
the work of your hands may be sacredly maintained, 
that its administration in every department may be 
stamped with wisdom and virtue — that, in fine, the 
happiness of the people of these States, under the 
16 



238 WASHINGTON'S FAEEWELL ADDRESS 

auspices of liberty, may be made complete by so care- 
ful a jDreservation, and so prudent a use of this blessing 
as "will acquire to them the glory of recommending it to 
the apjDlause, the affection, and adoption of every na- 
tion which is yet a stranger to it. 

Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But a solicitude for 
your welfare, which cannot end but with my hfe', and 
the apprehension of danger, natural to that solicitude, 
m'ge me, on an occasion lilie the present, to offer to 
your solemn contemplation, and to recommend to your 
frequent review, some sentiments, which are the result 
of much reflection, of no inconsiderable observation, 
and which appear to me all-important to the jjerma- 
nency of your felicity as a people. These will be of- 
fered to you with the more freedom, as you can only 
see in them the disinterested warnings of a jDarting 
friend, who can possibly have no personal motives to 
bias liis counsel. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement 
to it, your indulgent reception of my sentiments on a 
former and not dissimilar occasion. 

The unity of government, which constitutes you one 
people, is also now dear to you. It is justly so; for it 
is a main pillar in the edifice of yom* real indej^endence ; 
the support of your tranquillity at home ; your ^^eace 
abroad ; of your safety ; of your prosperity ; of that 
very liberty which you so highly prize. But as it is 
easy to foresee, that, from different causes and fi*om 
different quarters, much pains will be taken, many ar- 
tifices employed, to weaken in your minds the convic- 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 239 

tion of tliis truth ; as this is the point in your political 
fortress against which the batteries of internal and ex- 
ternal enemies will be most constantly and actively 
(though often covertly and insidiously) directed ; it is 
of infinite moment, that you should properly estimate 
the immense value of your national union to your col- 
lective and mdividual haj^piness ; that you should cherish 
a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it ; ac- 
customing yourselves to think and to speak of it as a 
palladium of your political safety and prosperity ; 
watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety ; dis- 
countenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion 
that it can in any event be abandoned ; and indignantly 
fro"\vniug upon the first da^viiing of every attempt to 
alienate any jjortion of our country from the rest, or to 
enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the 
various parts. 

For this you have every inducement of sympathy 
and mterest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common 
country, that country has a right to concentrate your 
affections. The name of AjVIERICAN, which belongs to 
you in your national capacity, must always exalt the 
just pride of patriotism, more than any appellation de- 
rived from local discriminations. With slight shades 
of difference you have the same religion, manners, 
habits, and pohtical prmciple. You have, in a common 
cause, fought and triumphed together ; the independ- 
ence and liberty you possess, are the work of joint 
councils and joint efforts — of common dangers, suf- 
ferings, and success. 



240 Washington's farewell address. 

But these considerations, however powerfully they 
address themselves to yoin* sensibility, are greatly out- 
weighed by those ■which apply more immediately to 
your interest. Here every portion of our country finds 
the most commanding motives for carefully guarding 
and preserving the miion of the whole. 

Towards the preservation of your government, and 
the permanency of your jjresent happy state, it is 
requisite not only that you steadily discountenance ir- 
regular opposition to its acknowledged authority, but 
also that you resist with care the spirit of innovation 
upon its principles, however specious the pretext. One 
method of assault may be to effect in the forms of the 
constitution alterations wliich will impau' the energy of 
the system, and thus to undermine what cannot be di- 
rectly overthroA\ii. In all the changes to which you 
may be invited, remember that time and habit are at 
least as necessary to fix the true character of govern- 
ments, as of other human institutions ; that experience 
is the surest standard by which to test the real tenden- 
cy of the existing constitutions of a country ; that fa- 
ciHty in changes, upon the credit of mere hypothesis 
and opinion, exposes to per^Dctual change, from the 
endless variety of hypothesis and opinion ; and remem- 
ber especially, that for the efficient management of 
your common interests, in a country so extensive as 
ours, a government of as much vigor as is consistent 
with the perfect security of Hberty, is indispensable. 
Liberty itself will find in such a government, with 



Washington's farewell address. 241 

powers properly distributed and adjusted, its surest 
guardian. It is, indeed, little else than a name, where 
the government, is too feeble to withstand the enter- 
prises of faction, to confine each member of society 
within the Limits prescribed by the laws, and to main- 
tain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the 
rights of person and property. 

I have already intimated to you the danger of parties 
in the State, with particular reference to the founding 
of them upon geographical discriminations. Let me 
now take a more comprehensive view, and warn you, in 
the most solemn manner, against the baneful effects of 
the spirit of party generally. 

This spu'it, unfortunately, is inseparable from our na- 
ture, having its root in tHe strongest passions in the hu- 
man mind. It exists under different shapes, in all gov- 
ernments, more or less stifled, controlled or repressed ; 
but in those of the popular form it is seen in its great- 
est rankness, and is truly their worst enemy. 
. The alternate domination of one faction over another, 
sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party 
dissension, which in different ages and countries has 
perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself a 
frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more 
formal and permanent despotism. The disorders and 
miseries which result, gradually incline the minds of 
men to seek security and repose in the absolute power 
of an individual; and, sooner or later, the chief of some 
prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his 



242 Washington's farewell address. 

* 
competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of 

his own elevation on the ruins of the public liberty. 

Without looking forward to an extremity of this 
kind, (which, nevertheless, ought not to be entirely 
out of sight,) the common and continual mischiefs of 
the spmt of party are sufficient to make it the interest 
and duty of a wise people to discourage and restrain it. 

It serves always to distract the public councils, and 
enfeeble the public administration. It agitates the 
community with ill founded jealousies and false alarms j 
kindles the animosity of one part against another ; fo- 
ments occasional riot and insurrection. It opens the 
door to foreign influence and corruption, which finds a 
facilitated access to the government itself, through the 
channels of party passion. Thus the policy and will of 
one country are subjected to the policy and will of 
another. 

There is an opinion that parties in free countries are 
useful checks upon the administration of the govern- 
ment, and to serve to keep aHve the spirit of liberty. 
This, within certain limits, is probably true ; and in gov- 
ernments of a monarchial cast, patriotism may look 
with indulgence, if not with favor, upon the spirit of 
party. But in those of the popular character, in gov- 
ernments purely elective, it is a^ spirit not to be en- 
couraged. From the natural tendency, it is certain 
there will always be enough of that spirit for every sal- 
utary purpose ; and there bein^ constant danger of ex- 
cess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion. 



WASHINGTON'S FAEEWELL ADDEESS. 243 

to mitigate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, 
it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent its bm'sting 
into a flame, lest, instead of warming, it should con- 
sume. 

It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking, 
in a free country, should inspire caution, in those in- 
trusted with its administration, to confine themselves 
within their respective constitutional spheres ; avoiding 
in the exercise of the powers of one department, to 
encroach upon another. The spirit of encroachment 
tends to consolidate the powers of 51II the departments 
in one, and thus to create, whatever the form of gov- 
ernment, a real despotism. A just estimate of that 
love of power, and proneness to abuse it, which jiredom- 
inates in the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy us of 
the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal 
checks in the exercise of political power, by dividing 
and distributing it mto different depositories, and con- 
stituting each the guardian of the public weal against 
invasions of the other, has been evinced by exj^eriments, 
ancient and modern ; some of them in our country, and 
under our own eyes. To preserve them must be as 
necessary as to institute them. If^ in the opinion of 
the people, the distribution or modification of the con- 
stitutional powers be, in any particular, wrong, let it be 
corrected by an amendment in the way which the con- 
stitution designates. But let there be no change by 
usurpation ; for though this, in one instance, may be the 
instrument of good, it is the customary weapon by 



244 Washington's farewell address. 

■which free governments are destroyed. The precedent 
must always greatly overbalance, in permanent evil, 
any partial or transient benefit which the use can at any 
time yield. 

Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to po- 
political prosperity, religion and morality are indispen- 
sable suj^ports. In vain would that man claim the 
tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these 
great pillars of human happiness — these firmest props 
of the duties of men and citizens. The mere poUti- 
cian, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and 
to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their 
connection Avith private and public felicity. Let it 
simply be asked. Where is the security for property, 
for reputation, for life, if the sense of rehgious obliga- 
tion desert the oaths which are the instruments of in- 
vestigation in courts of justice ? And let us with caution 
indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained 
without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the 
influence of refined education on minds of peculiar 
structure, reason and experience both forbid us to ex- 
pect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of 
religious principles. 

It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a 
necessary spring of popular government. Thetule, in- 
deed, extends, with more or less force, to every species 
of free government. Who that is a sincere friend to 
it can look with indifference upon attempts to shake 
the foundation of the fabric ? 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 245 

Promote, then, as an object of primary importance, 
institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In 
proportion as the structure of a government gives force 
to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion 
should be enlightened. 

Observe good faith and justice towards all nations j 
cultivate peace and harmony with all ; reHgion and mo- 
rality enjoin this conduct ; and can it be that good pol- 
icy does not equally enjoin it ? It will be worthy of a 
free, enlightened, and, at no distant period, a great na- 
tion, to give to mankind the magnanimous and too novel 
example of a people always guided by an exalted jus- 
tice and benevolence. Who can doubt but that, in the 
course of time and things, the fruits of such a plan 
would richly repay any temporary advantages which 
might be lost by a steady adherence to it ? Can it be 
that Providence has connected the permanent felicity 
of a nation with its virtue ? The experiment, at least, 
is recommended by every sentiment which ennobles hu- 
man nature. Alas ! it is rendered impossible by its 
vices ! 

In the execution of such a plan, nothing is more 
esential than that permanent, inveterate antipathies 
against particular nations, and passionate attachment for 
others, should be excluded ; and that^ in place of them, 
just and amicable feelings toAvards all should be cul- 
tivated. The nation which indulges towards another an 
habitual hatred, or an habitual fondness, is, m some de- 
gree, a slave. It is a slave to its animosity or to its af- 



246 WASHINGTON'S FAIIE\ATXL ADDRESS. 

fection, either of -which is sufficient to lead it astray 
from its duty and its interest. Antipathy in one na- 
tion against another, disposes each more readily to offer 
insult and injury, to lay hold of slight causes of um- 
brage, and to be haughty and intractable when acci- 
dental or trifling occasions of dispute occur. 

Hence frequent collisions, obstinate, envenomed, and 
bloody contests. The nation, prompted by ill-will and 
resentment, sometimes impels to "vvar the government, 
contrary to the best calculations of policy. The gov- 
ernment sometimes participates in the national propen- 
sity, and adopts, through passion, what reason would 
reject; at other times, it makes the animosity of the 
nation subservient to the projects of hostility, and in- 
stigated by pride, ambition, and other sinister and per- 
nicious motives. The peace often, sometimes, perhaps, 
the Hberty of nations has been the victim. 

So, likewise, a passionate attachment of one nation 
for another produces a variety of evils. Sympathy for 
the favorite nation, facilitating the illusion of an imag- 
inary common interest in cases where no real common 
interest exists, and infusing into one the enmities of the 
other, betrays the former into a participation in the 
quarrels and the wars of the latter, without adequate 
inducements or justification. It leads, also, to conces- 
sions to the favorite nation of privileges denied to 
others, which are apt doubly to injure the nation mak- 
ing the concessions, by unnecessarily parting with what 
ought to have been retained, and by exciting jealousy, 



ayashington's faeea\^ll address. 247 

ill-will, and a disposition to retaliate in the parties 
from whom equal privileges are withheld ; and it gives 
to ambitious, corrupt, or deluded citizens, (who devote 
themselves to the favorite nation,) facihty to betray or 
sacrifice the interests of their own country without 
odium, sometimes even with popularity ; gilding with 
the appearances of a virtuous sense of obHgation to a 
commendable deference for public opinion, or a lauda- 
ble zeal for public good, the base or fooUsh compHan- 
ces of ambition, corruption, or infatuation. 

As avenues to foreign influence, in innumerable ways,, 
such attachments are particularly alarming to the truly 
enHghtened and independent ]3atriot. How many op- 
portunities do they afford to tamper with domestic 
factions, to practice the art of seduction, to mislead 
public opinion, to influence or awe the public comicils? 
Such an attachment of a small or weak, towards a great 
and powerful nation, dooms the former to be the sat- 
ellite of the latter. Against the msidious wiles of' 
foreign influence, (I conjure you to believe me, fellow- 
citizens,) the jealousy of a free people ought to be con- 
stantly aw^ake, since history and experience prove that 
foreign influence is one of the most baneful foes of 
republican government. But that jealousy, too, to be 
useful, must be impartial, else it becomes the instru- 
ment of the very influence to be avoided, instead of a 
defence against it. Excessive partiality for one foreign 
nation, and excessive dislike for another, cause those 
whom they actuate to see danger only on one side, and. 



248 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 

serve to veil and even second the arts of influence on 
the other. Real patriots, who may resist the intrigues 
of the favorite, are liable to become suspected and 
odious ; while its tools and diipes usurp the applause 
and confidence of the people to surrender their in- 
terests. 

The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to foreign 
nations, is, in extending our commercial relations, to 
•have with them as httle political connection as possible. 
So far as we have already formed engagements, let 
them be fulfilled with perfect good faith. Here let us 
stop. 

Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us 
have none, or a very remote relation. Hence, she 
must be engaged in frequent controversies, the causes of 
which are essentially foreign to our concerns. Hence, 
therefore, it must be unwise in us to impHcate ourselves, 
by artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her poH- 
tics, or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her 
friendships or enmities. 

Our detached and distant situation invites and ena- 
bles us to pursue a different course. If we remain one 
people, under an efficient government, the period is not 
far off" when we may defy material injury from external 
annoyance ; when we may take such an attitude as 
will cause the neutrality we may at any time resolve 
upon, to be scrupulously respected ; when belligerent 
nations, under the impossibility of making acquisitions 
upon us, will not lightly hazard the giving us provoca- 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 249 

tion ; when we may choose peace or war, as our in- 
terest, gnided by justice, shall counsel. 

Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situa- 
tion? Why quit our own to stand upon foreign 
ground ? Why, by interweaving our destiny with that 
of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and pros- 
perity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, 
interest, humor, or caprice ? 

It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alli- 
ances with any portion of the foreign world ; so far, I 
mean, as we are now at liberty to do it ; for let me not 
be understood as capable of patronizing infideHty to 
existing engagements. I hold the maxim no less 
applicable to public than to private affairs, that honesty 
is always the best policy. I repeat, therefore, let those 
engagements be observed in their genuine sense. But, 
in my opinion, it is unnecessary, and would be unwise, 
to extend them. 

Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable 
establishments, on a respectable defensive posture, we 
may safely trust to temporary alliances for extraordi- 
nary emergencies. 

Harmony, and a liberal intercourse with all nations, 
are recomm^ended by policy, humanity, and interest. 
But even om* commercial policy should hold an equal 
and impartial hand ; neither seeking nor granting ex- 
clusive favors or preferences; consulting the natm-al 
course of things ; diffusing and diversifying by gentle 
means the stream of commerce, but forcing nothing j 



250 WASHINGTON'S FAKEAA^ELL ADDRESS. 

establishing Avith powers so disposed, in order to give 
trade a stable course, to define the rights of our mer- 
chants, and to enable the government to support them, 
conventional rules of intercourse, the best that present 
circumstances and natural opinion will permit, but 
temporary, and liable to be, from time to time, aban- 
doned or varied, as experience and circumstances shall 
dictate ; constantly keeping in view that it is folly in 
one nation to look for disinterested favors from another ; 
that it must pay with a portion of its independence for 
whatever it may accept mider that character ; that by 
such acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of 
having given equivalents for nominal favors, and yet of 
being reproached with ingratitude for not giNing more . 
There can be no greater error than to expect or calcu- 
late uj)on real favors from natipn to nation. It is an 
illusion wliich experience must cure, which a just pride 
ought to discard. 

In offering to you, my countrymen, these counsels of 
an old, affectionate friend, I dare not hope they will 
make the strong and lasting impression I could wish — 
that they will control the usual current of the passions, 
or prevent our nation from runnmg the course which 
has hitherto marked the destiny of nations. But if I 
may even flatter myself that they may be productive 
of S3me partial benefit, some occasional good ; that 
they ma}- now and then recur to moderate tlie fury of 
party spirit ; to warn against the mischiefs of foreign 
intrigue ; to guard against the impostm'es of pretended 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWTELL ADDEESS. 251 

patriotism ; this hope will be a full recompense for the 
solicitude for yoiu' -svelfare by which they have been 
dictated. 

How far, in the discharge of my official duties, I have 
been guided by the principles which have been delin- 
eated, the public records and other evidences of my 
conduct must witness to you and to the world. To 
myself, the assm-ance of my own conscience is, that I 
have at least believed myself to be guided by them. 

Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administra- 
tion, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nev- 
ertheless, too sensible of my defects not to think it 
probable that I may have committed many errors. 
Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Al- 
mighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they 
may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope that 
my country will never cease to \iew them with in- 
dulgence; and that, after forty-five years of my Hfe 
dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the faults 
of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, 
as myself must soon be to the mansions of rest. 

Reljing on its kmdness in this and other things, and 
actuated by that fervent love towards it, which is so 
natural to a man who views in it the native soil of him- 
self, and his progenitors for several generations, — I 
anticipate, with pleasing expectation, that retreat, in 
which I promise myself to realize, \nthout alloy, the 
sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of my fel- 



252 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 

low-citlzens, the benign influence of good laws, under 
free government — the ever-favorite object of my heart, 
and the happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, 
labors, and dangers. 



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